


Lion's Tooth

by shinigami714



Series: Kings of Carven Stone [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Crossdressing Elements, Explicit Language, Fingerfucking, Gang Violence, Gangs, Grunge, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Motorcycles, Murder, Outdoor Sex, Past Character Death, Poverty, Sexual Content, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/pseuds/shinigami714
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli’s life is quickly on its way downhill. He lives in a trash town, has a trash job, and he’s soon to be street trash himself if he can’t manage to pay his bills. With no one left to help him in the world, he’s continuously battling with the few choices that are left to him. As he’s starting to hit rock bottom a gang rides into town, gathering the attention of everyone, including Kíli. He knows they are bad news, knows he needs to stay away and heed his mother's warnings, but he can’t deny the strange pull he feels to a silent blond with frighteningly intense blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Hobbit Big Bang entry! It's a week late, and I'm sorry about that. Life got busy. But here's the first part, and more to follow soon.

The sun teemed down onto the dusty plains the day they rode into town.  It was late in July, one of the hottest days of the year, complete with record breaking temperatures.  Steam rose up from the pavement, and the horizon wavered from the heat.  Sweat streamed down Kíli’s face as he heard the tell-tale groans of engines approaching before several hogs roared down the single major road running through Astermoor. 

It was a cesspool of a town, filled with nothing but drug addicts, drunks, and mothers too young to raise their children.  No one ever went to Astermoor with the intention of staying for long, but they certainly got their fair share of passers-by.  Truckers sometimes, taking a night off to get rest and some action with one of the dancers in town.  Other times tourists, who probably took a wrong turn and realised it far too late, forced to stay the night in a seedy motel.  But more often than not, visitors to the city consisted of gangs that travelled the road for no other reason than to find a quick buck and make some trouble along the way.  Gangs like the one that rolled into town that very day.

Kíli wiped off his face sluggishly and guarded his eyes from the blaring sunlight as he watched the bikes ride by in the distance.  There were ten, twelve in total maybe, and one by one they drove into the dingy Sunscape Motel just down the road.  The silver detailing on the wheel rims reflected the sunlight blindingly and each of the riders wore a leather jacket bearing the same symbol on the back, though he couldn’t quite make it out from his distance across the street.  The engines came to a halt as people on the streets watched them warily, clearly hoping their stay might be short-lived.

Kíli’s arm jolted as the gas pump hitched suddenly in his grip, and he directed his glance back towards his task, quickly pulling the hose out of the tank.  He could hear the men laughing and greeting each other as their deep voices echoed across the terrain between them.  It made Kíli tense up as he shook off the hose and hung it back on its hook.  Everyone knew nothing good came from those gangs, and the people were suffering enough without an added complication to their daily lives. His mother had warned him to stay away from any strangers visiting town long ago, but also to keep his distance from men in general.  They were untrustworthy, violent, cruel, and bikers were the worst of the lot.  All of them wanted the same thing, and most of them took it if given the chance, and then left without so much as a thank you.

Hit ‘n runs, the townsfolk called ‘em.

Kíli was pretty sure his father had been one of them, though Dís never explicitly told him what happened to the man that knocked her up.  She was far too tainted to talk about her past, and once he was old enough to understand…it was too late to ask. Her corpse was six feet underground, and the meagre stone above her gravesite certainly provided no answers.  To be honest, anyone could have been his father, not that he really cared to know.  It wouldn’t make any difference; his life was shit with or without some deadbeat parent. 

Kíli shrugged beneath his tank top as he made his way inside the run down gas station to pay.  The bell jingled and he nodded faintly at the heavy set man behind the desk before throwing a few bills down on the counter.  He eyed the contents of his wallet emotionlessly as a box of smokes glided towards him in return, and then he made his way back to his truck without a single word.

Kíli whipped open the rusty door, ignoring the loud creaking sound as the hinges scratched together, and he hoisted himself up onto the seat before tossing his wallet carelessly to the side.  The brunet adjusted the rear-view mirror slightly, offering a better view of the motel across the street, just as the last of the men made his way inside.  Kíli’s gaze fell to his lap and he fiddled with his denim shorts idly.  The ends were so frayed that loose threads hung halfway down his thighs, and they were at least an inch shorter than when he first started wearing them.

His thoughts wandered as he remembered the last time a gang set foot in town.  It was a particularly violent group.  They found their home in the bars and clubs in the evenings, and Kíli remembered the imposing stares and whispered conversations in the darkest corners as he worked the tables and pretended to ignore them.  Kíli may have been no more than a high school dropout, barely educated and uninformed about much of the world, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He knew the townsfolk didn’t take kindly to dealing with outsiders, and they thought even less of anyone caught doing so.  And he knew exactly what those outsiders were capable of.  His Ma had gotten in too deep, tried to make a deal she wasn’t prepared to.  And even if the police couldn’t do anything about it without any witnesses to prove such a thing, Kíli was sure she’d been murdered for it.

Kíli blinked away the tears in his eyes and lifted his chin, pulling the rear-view mirror quickly towards his face.  His eyeliner was smeared, and his face looked disgustingly greasy.  Kíli hated the heat.  It made him feel dirty, ugly, like a piece of trash.  Even more so than usual. He pushed his sweaty bangs away from his brow and sat back, eyeing the empty wallet on the seat beside him as he turned his key in the ignition.  The truck stuttered a few times and he slammed his hands against the wheel and kept at it until the engine finally kicked to life.  

He needed some cash, but that wasn’t any different than normal.  Waiting tables at Dusk, the most frequented bar in town, sure didn’t pay much, but there weren’t a whole lot of opportunities for people like him in Astermoor.  He had no education, no friends or family to help him out.  One look at his tattered shirts and cut off jean shorts and people knew he wasn’t worth a dime.  He could have made it as a dancer, he knew that.  He had the body for it, and Benny was always short on males. Not to mention it was the only job that paid half decent in town without forcing him to spread his legs, at least the only one he was qualified for.  But there was no way in hell.  Men, and even some women, stared at him often enough.  The thought of their beady leering eyes following his body on stage made Kíli want to vomit. 

His mother had been a dancer, and a damn good one.  She shone on the stage, but that kind of success…had its downfalls, especially in a small town in which secrets couldn’t be kept and the police often turned a blind eye for the right amount of money.  He remembered what they used to do to her, behind the bar, in the alleyways and under the cover of darkness.  She never mentioned it, and she tried to hide it from him.  But he knew, he saw.  Their slimy hands, all over her body, beneath her clothes.  Tearing at her, pushing her down.  Their disgusting groans as she tried to hold back her screams while struggling in their grip.  And then they threw her away afterwards, like she was nothing more than a used toy.  It made him sick.  He hadn’t understood it at first, but over time it became clear.  And when she came home with a few extra dollars than usual, more than she ever made from tips, Kíli knew where it came from.   She’d look down at him on those nights and smile, pretend nothing happened, and then she’d pull him close and hold him tight, whisper into his ears.

_“We’re gonna get you outta this shit hole, you’ll see, you and me.  Just you and me,” she promised him, and Kíli watched her with wide innocent eyes.  He loved his mama, trusted her, and believed in her._

_“You’re better than this place,” she said, her clothes rank from the scent of alcohol, cigarettes and sex._

_“Kíli, sweet Kíli,” her voice echoed in his ears as she stared off at something in the distance.  Something he couldn’t see._

_“You’re my little angel, the only one that matters, don’t ever leave me, promise me that,” she mumbled, as her tears began to fall and soak into the hair behind his neck.  Kíli let her rock him, murmuring promises he didn’t understand, and he hugged her back, wishing he could do something to ebb her growing sadness._  

In the end he never had, and she died alone in some cold alleyway, no more than another forgotten soul in the world.

 Kíli didn’t want to dance, not if he could help it.  His Ma certainly never wanted him to.  She wanted more for him, a better life, one where he didn’t have to sell his body just so he could pay his rent.  Kíli figured he was pretty screwed as far as that went.  Realistically it was only a matter of time before dancing became his only option.  Waiting tables in the bar paid half as much as what the dancers made, and the tips he got were few and far between.  The drunkards saved those for the ones showing off skin. He knew now that there was nothing for him anywhere in the world.  Even if he left town, where would he go?  What would he do?  He’d just end up in another useless city, working tables at another sleazy bar.  And saving enough to leave in the first place was an impossible task.   It was best if he just stayed and did his best to keep on living.  It was the least he could do for his Ma. 

Automatically he reached up and let his fingers grasp the locket hanging from his neck.  It was all he had left of hers.  That and the beat up old truck he knew was on its way out.  Kíli frowned in frustration.  He couldn’t help but think she’d be disappointed in him.  There he was, alone and all grown up, still in the same shitty town, living in a shitty apartment with his shitty underpaying job.  He curled his shoulders inwards and eyed his lanky legs.  There was an unsightly bruise lingering just beneath the frayed edge of his shorts, and Kíli let his thumb brush across it as he recalled the feeling of a stranger’s fingers pressing into his skin.  He did his best to avoid contact with the townsfolk in the bars, but sometimes he was careless, sometimes they caught him off guard.  It made him cringe.  How anyone could ever let a stranger touch them like that, even for money, was a mystery to him.  He’d rather die.

A horn blared loudly from behind and Kíli jumped in his seat and readjusted the mirror.  His eyes glanced at an angry man shaking his arms wildly as he leaned out of his car window.

“What the hell are yeh doin!?  Piece o’ trash, get outta the way!” the man shouted at him, and Kíli glared back and tossed him a one fingered salute.  His foot hit the gas pedal and he drove away from the man shouting after him in a hurry, more than ready to get home and take a much needed nap.  Even as he drove out of the gas station he couldn’t help but listen to the insults barked at him, and Kíli’s face crumpled slightly as his eyes burned against the dusty wind. He really was just a piece of no good trash.

* * *

Kíli inched between the crowded tables with a tray held high above his head.  The drinks teetered slightly above him, but stayed upright.  He had plenty of experience navigating through the club, even on the busiest nights.  The music pounded in his ears, but he ignored it, taking in the conversations around him best he could.  There was nothing of interest, for the most part.  Just the usual bet placing and disgusting comments directed towards the dancers.  But occasionally he caught the patrons whispering beneath covered hands, their gazes flickering towards the imposing group in a far corner of the club, the table he was meant to return to. 

There were five of them, huddled around one of the secluded booth tables.  They sported the same leather jackets he remembered from earlier that afternoon, and upon a closer look he could make out the shape of a crown settled above an oak leaf, with several unfamiliar runes in a banner across the top.  Some of them had added studs down their sleeves, and tattoos across their fingers, clearly unashamed of what they were. The rest of the regulars kept their distance, trying and failing to look uninterested.   There were plenty of people hidden in the shadows that could make use of a gang’s services, even in a small town like Astermoor.  Everyone had a vendetta; everyone had someone they wanted dead.  For the right price, they could probably make that sort of thing happen without a second thought.  The only real issue was managing to keep it confidential.

Kíli sidled up next to the table and the men sat back in their seats and immediately stopped talking, looking him up and down with curiosity.  He set the drinks down and tried not to cower beneath their stares, observing a few of them through the corners of his eyes.  As he slid the last of the beer bottles across the table his eyes lifted and met a steely blue gaze.  Kíli jolted and felt a shiver run down his spine as he froze under the scrutiny, and as the eyes across narrowed at him oddly, he flinched and turned away to pick up a few empty glasses from a neighbouring table.

It took a few minutes for him to make the rounds again; doing his best to smile at customers that looked ready to throw away some cash, but no one was biting.  It was going to be a long night, just like every night lately, and he’d be lucky if he made enough in tips to pay his bills for the month.  Kíli wiped off a table and readjusted his fishnets as they began digging into his skin.  Beneath the dim lighting of the club he couldn’t see the imprints left behind, but he knew they were there, just like the bruise on his thigh.  He tugged his ponytail over a shoulder, knowing he had avoided the strangers long enough, and then he pushed through the crowd, making his way back to the corner table.

Kíli’s gaze stayed rooted on the table, and he ran his tongue across his lower lip nervously as he approached, mustering the strength to speak.

“Top ups?” Kíli muttered quickly, just loud enough his voice might be heard above the low bass pounding in the bar.  He received a few nods in response, and as he turned he felt something slide down the back of his leather shorts.  Kíli twisted around in surprise, and reached behind himself, his lips parting as he fingered the rolled up bills tucked into his shorts.  The bald biker was grinning at him flirtatiously, even as the much smaller man beside him nearly crawled atop his lap, and Kíli couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the sight.  For some reason he didn’t feel like squirming as much as usual, like he did whenever one of the townsfolk grabbed onto him or slid money into his belt.  Kíli nodded gratefully and relocated the bills to his pocket as he walked away, thanking whatever god was watching over him for giving him some cash for groceries at the very least. 

He edged past a few people and worked his way up to the bar, leaning next to one of his coworkers.  Tauriel was tall and gangly, just like him, with long red hair that the clients loved grabbing at.  It irked her to no end, and she was one of the few people he actually tolerated for longer than a few minutes at a time.  He wouldn’t call her a friend exactly, outside of work they never spoke, but she was someone he could vent with on a really tedious shift.

“Anything good tonight?” Tauriel asked him as she stood waiting for the barkeep to fill her order.  Kíli glanced towards her, recalling the single tip tucked away in his shorts. 

“Bone dry,” he lied, not quite willing to share what little chance he had at more tips with her, and she grunted and slouched slightly against the bar.

“Same.  Everyone’s on edge.  Wish those assholes would just get lost,” she ranted, glaring into the corner of the club, and then she tossed him a pitiful glance before making her way back to her own tables.  Kíli nibbled on his lip, letting his gaze slip back towards the strangers.  They were conversing in a more relaxed manner now, and looked far less imposing than they had initially, but perhaps that was the money talking.  He took them in curiously and then froze when he realized one of them was looking directly at him.  Kíli’s eyes widened as he stared back at the intimidating blond that had been watching him earlier.  The brunet was tempted to look away, but something kept him looking, and it wasn’t until he felt the tray nudge against his arm that he flinched and turned around with a gasp.

“Drinks are up Kíli,” the barkeep gestured towards the glasses and Kíli breathed in deep to calm his nerves.

“Thanks Joe,” he whispered and then he moved back through the crowd.  Now even he was on edge, unsure what to expect from the group he waited on.  And as he returned and began placing glasses and bottles on the table he knew he must have looked oddly stiff.  It was dangerous to act so strange around gang members.  They were unpredictable, and Kíli had seen others beaten bloody for so much as looking at one of them the wrong way in the past.  He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until a hand reached out and touched his forearm.

It took every ounce of his will to keep from jumping away from the contact, and he looked up at the man that had touched him warily.  He had long hair, braided strangely at the sides of his head, and a curled moustache that made his smirk seem unnaturally flirtatious.  Kíli’s eyes took in the falsely cheerful creases at the edges of his eyes and the single dangling earring that reflected the flashing lights inside with unease. He knew the man was far more dangerous than he looked. 

“Hey sweetheart,” the man drawled, and Kíli swallowed at the gleam behind his eyes.  It wasn’t quite as menacing as some he’d seen, but it still frightened him.

“You’re a pretty little thing, you should be up there, getting all those tips,” he suggested, and the bald man laughed loudly across from him as he slung an arm around his companion, while the other two men at the table hardly reacted at all.

“I don’t dance,” Kíli insisted quietly as he tucked the empty tray beneath an arm. 

“That’s a shame,” the playful man commented and then he lifted his jaw towards the blonde sitting in the middle.

“My friend here would rather like to see it,” he implied, and Kíli glanced up, his gaze trapped once again by icy blue. There was something strange about him, something that made Kíli’s breath catch in his throat and his heart rate increase exponentially.  The blond didn’t dispute the comment at all, and did little more than take a sip of his beer and stare him down without a single blink.  Kíli shrugged slightly and lowered his gaze.

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not my style,” he maintained, and Kíli couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the drawn out sighs that followed.  He couldn’t read these men like normal, wasn’t sure what they were thinking and it made him itch to back away.  Instead he leant forwards to clear away a few glasses, just as the bald man slid across the booth and moved to stand.  

“Gotta piss before I down the rest of this,” he muttered, and Kíli’s eyes followed him as he stood. The man was massive, and Kíli stepped back suddenly as the thug towered over him and brushed by on his way towards the restroom.  Kíli figured he must have been a foot taller than anyone else in town, and some of the men that worked in the factory the next city over were huge.  It was no wonder that even the cops were unwilling to mess with gangs if they had muscle like that.  You’d have to either be completely mad, or incredibly confident.   

“No need to be afraid, we ain’t gonna hurt you,” the nasally voice came from the fifth man at the table, who was small in stature comparatively, and had strange spiky red hair.  He looked like someone with no qualms about stabbing a person in the back, and Kíli did his best to laugh the comment off while feeling more than a little anxious.  He was glad to get away from the table and move on to other guests, even if they didn’t have any cash to stuff in his pockets.  He didn’t like feeling so vulnerable.  It wasn’t as if he was weak.  Kíli could hold his own in a brawl, and he wasn’t afraid to fight dirty, but with men like that?  He’d be knocked out cold before he got a single swing in.

Kíli kept his distance the rest of the night, and was relieved when the men left without causing any visible trouble, but as he exited out the back door of the club, tugging his jacket tight around his shoulders to keep out the chill, he faltered.  The five men were just across the street, propped against their motorcycles like they were waiting for something. 

Kíli shrugged his shoulders and tucked his hands into the shallow pockets of his coat resolutely.  He didn’t have to cross the street; he could just ignore them and walk a block down first.  There was nothing to worry about.  Kíli exhaled on the night air, watching his breath puff up in a cloud in front of him.  He wished he’d brought his smokes along.  At least that might have settled his nerves a bit.  His first few steps echoed loudly on the pavement and he kept his head lowered while he watched the gang members cautiously.  All he had to do was continue to walk, but as he rounded the corner of the building he heard their low voices come to an abrupt stop.     

“Hey cutie, done work?” one of them shouted, and Kíli halted mid step.  He tried to convince himself to ignore them, but he had already paused long enough that they would know he’d heard the question.  Instead he opened his mouth to shout out in return but as he looked up and watched people crossing the street away from them, something compelled him to do the opposite.  He had to cross the street eventually anyway; there was no sense in putting it off.  Besides, it was his town, not theirs; he could damn well walk where he pleased regardless of their reputation.  Never mind the strange sense of intrigue in his gut, and the unfamiliar stir of excitement as he quickly looked both ways before moving towards them.  He could feel stares at his back, from others exiting the club, and figured half the town would suspect him of suspicious activity by the next morning. 

“Didn’t get a chance to introduce you to my boys,” the bald man voiced as he approached, and Kíli stopped a careful distance from where his bike was parked. 

“I’m Dwalin, this pretty thing next to me is Ori,” the thug announced, and Kíli watched as the two shared a sloppy kiss.  The brunet’s cheeks warmed at the sight and he fidgeted in place.

“He always rides with me,” Dwalin spoke as he ran a gloved hand up Ori’s chest.  The smaller man leaned into the touch and grinned pleasantly as the others snorted at the sight, like they were used to such public displays of affection.  Kíli wasn’t sure what to make of it.  It didn’t bother him per se, but he wondered what exactly their relationship entailed. 

“That’s Bofur, Nori,” Dwalin nodded at the braided man first, and then the redhead, before his gaze moved towards the mysterious blond.

“And the quiet guy in the back, that’s Fíli,” Dwalin finished, and Kíli noticed the way the blond sat confidently atop his bike, his jacket hung open to reveal a plain white shirt and a hint of a tattoo at his neck.  He showed no interest in responding at all, though his eyes connected briefly with the other members of his gang.   There was no doubt in Kíli’s mind that Fíli was the one in control, even if Dwalin did all of the talking.

“What’s your name hon?” Dwalin asked him, tugging Ori into his side, and for a moment Kíli thought about telling him a lie. 

“Kíli,” he eventually answered, looking up as the streetlamp above flickered slightly, casting strange shadows across the pavement.

“You look cold,” Dwalin commented offhandedly, and just in time a slight breeze blew past and Kíli was forced to wrap his arms around his chest in defense.  His shorts and fishnets did little to block the cool air, and he turned his toes slightly inwards and frowned.  It was remarkable how cold it got in the evenings, even after days that seemed unbearably hot.

“Want a ride?” The biker asked with an inviting grin.  Kíli eyed him warily and looked towards the bikes in suspicion.

“I’m sure Fíli wouldn’t mind you taggin’ along on the back of his bike.  He’ll get you home safe,” Dwalin promised, and Kíli nearly choked on his breath.  The blond was watching him heatedly; his gaze moving up the length of Kíli’s long legs, and the brunet narrowed his eyes and stood his ground.  As tempting as it sounded to get a quick ride home, he knew it was a stupid idea.  He’d almost been convinced for a minute that something was different about the blond, but of course he was mistaken.  Fíli was just like any other man, interested in one thing and one thing only; his roaming eyes easily gave that fact away. 

“I’m fine, thanks, don’t live far,” Kíli spat out, much harsher than he probably should have in such company, but he was angering quickly at clearly getting pegged for no more than an easy piece of meat.  He never was very good at controlling his emotions; it had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past.

“Suit yourself,” the bald man slurred, and Kíli turned rapidly and began walking home, his shoes slapping loudly against the sidewalk.

“Hey, Kíli!” rang out behind him, and as the brunet turned he saw Bofur grinning at him wildly.

“We’ll be back to see you dance!” the cheery man inferred with a wink, and Kíli sneered in return.

“I don’t dance!” he shouted back, but it was lost over the sound of engines starting up.  Fíli examined him for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side, his expression unreadable, and then the gang members drove off one by one, likely headed into some kind of trouble.  But it was none of Kíli’s concern.  The brunet stood there watching them disappear down the dark street, his fingers toying with his necklace out of habit.  He was sure he made the right decision, turning down their offer, no matter how cold it was, no matter how much his feet hurt, and yet for some reason a strange pang of regret still settled heavily in his gut.

* * *

The following evening at the bar was deader than ever before.  He had the early shift, and there were barely any tables to wait on.  Even the gang was nowhere in sight.  Kíli hadn’t made a single cent off of the few customers he served, and he knew his rent budget was continuing to suffer for it.  Minimum wage just didn’t cut it.  He stood outside of the back entrance on his break, staring forlornly across the street.  The small patch of pavement across the way was empty of any activity, and the only things around to capture his attention were the occasional passers-by and scraps of garbage floating on the wind. Kíli struggled with his lighter, shaking it up a bit as he flicked his thumb across the switch desperately.  A cigarette hung limply between his lips as he finally got a flame out of his limited supply of butane, and he hurried to light it up, sighing in relief as it took.  The brunet inhaled the smoke eagerly, feeling a temporary calm running through his veins.  He knew it was a bad habit and that it was a false sense of relaxation, but it was all he had on nights like those, the nights that left him longing for another life, in another world.

His eyes slid closed and he leaned back against the brick wall, hating the burning feeling settling behind his eyes.  He felt pathetic, run down, and was beginning to wonder why he even bothered continuing to live out such a dead end life.  Kíli’s fingers pulled the cigarette from his lips and smoke wafted out after it, leaving misty trails in the air.  He gazed at the burning embers on the tip watching the paper slowly crack and fall apart, and wondered if it was a metaphor for his life.  Kíli snorted and put it back in his mouth, slumping lifelessly against the wall.  He was crumbling at the edges, no matter how much he tried to deny it. 

A few moments passed by and his cigarette was half burned away when someone walked across his line of vision and paused just at the entrance to the small alleyway.  Kíli’s eyes lifted towards the heavy shadow, and then widened as he recognized the same blond man from the night prior.  Fíli, wasn’t it?  He was alone, dressed in some torn apart jeans and his usual leather jacket, and Kíli shuddered as the other man visibly eyed him up.  Fíli must have come to some sort of decision, because he frowned very slightly and then stepped closer, and Kíli stood up straight in defense.  He looked into the other man’s eyes as confidently as he could manage, but as the blond leaned over him and placed a hand above his shoulder against the brick wall, Kíli’s courage wavered.  His heart rate increased tenfold, and the cigarette hung forgotten between his lips as he stopped breathing.  He’d never been so close to another man before, and he found his gaze lowering to study the rough wiry blond hairs framing Fíli’s face.  He had such alluring eyes, so intense and full of mystery, and the way his lips always seemed to curve upwards slightly at the edge had a strange effect on Kíli’s emotions.  He couldn’t deny that Fíli was very attractive, in a rugged, ambiguous sort of way, and it annoyed him that he was so susceptible to such a thing at all.  Fíli was the very sort of person the brunet intended to avoid, the sort he wanted absolutely nothing to do with, but it was impossible to deny the temptation.   

Kíli could not help but flush at their close proximity, and as he watched the other man’s Adam’s apple bob teasingly beneath the skin of his neck, Kíli pressed back against the wall as far as he could and swallowed nervously.  Two thick fingers came up and brushed across his lips, framing the cigarette, and Kíli gasped slightly as it was pulled from his mouth.  His sight blurred as he watched it move away, but moments later Fíli threw the cigarette to the ground and proceeded to crush it beneath his foot.  Kíli blinked several times in surprise and sputtered as he gaped at the other man in horror.   

“H-hey!” Kíli finally managed to shout, his eyes wide and his teeth slightly bared.

“What’d you do that for?” he spoke accusingly as he pointed towards the ashen remains of his cigarette.  A few embers still flickered against the pavement, but it was a lost cause.  Even Kíli wasn’t that desperate.  Fíli’s hand lowered from the wall to touch the brunet’s jaw, and Kíli jolted at the contact and tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach in favour of his ire.     

“It’ll kill you,” Fíli rasped, and Kíli’s mouth fell open even further at the first sound of the other man’s voice.  It was low and husky, and it took several seconds before Kíli even managed to comprehend what he’d said.  The brunet made a sardonic face, unsure whether to laugh or yell at the blond, it was completely ridiculous for a member of a gang to criticize his lifestyle for increasing his risk of death, even if it was true.  Before he had a chance to react at all Fíli pushed away, and disappeared around the edge of the alleyway, leaving Kíli stunned and open-mouthed.  Without really thinking his fingers found their way to the side of his face as he recalled the feeling of the blond’s palm against his skin.  It was such a brief interaction, and so meaningless in the great scheme of things, but he still felt more alive than he had in a very long time.

“What the hell?” Kíli whispered as he glanced down at the burnt out cigarette.  It mingled with hundreds of other buds against the cement, grey and dead, just another piece of garbage on the ground.  His hands fell limply to his sides as he slouched and looked up at the sky longingly.  He felt strangely cold and alone now that the other man was gone, and he berated himself for even considering what it might be like to spend another moment in Fíli’s presence.  His mother would have been horrified; she was probably rolling in her grave that very instant.  As his mind began to drift to more depressing thoughts a loud bang shocked him from his daydream.  Kíli flew to the side as the back door to the bar whipped open and Tauriel poked her head out from inside.

“Kíli! Where the hell have you been?  Your break ended ten minutes ago! Benny’s flippin’ out!” she cried, her expression anxious and worried, and Kíli’s eyes blew open in shock.

“Crap, sorry,” he muttered, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jacket, and he skittered back inside to face the wrath of his boss.

* * *

It was too sunny. So sunny in fact that Kíli was forced to cover his eyes just so he could read the words etched on his mother’s gravestone.  It didn’t seem right, the way the weather defied his mood.  There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, but it felt like hundreds lingered just above.  Kíli’s fingers readjusted the makeshift bouquet at the base of the tiny stone fretfully.  It was a mix of dandelions, goldenrod, and ragweed. Not much to look at, but it was the best he could find, picked from the edge of the road just outside of town.  His mother would have appreciated the gesture, might have even smiled at the sight of them.

_“Don’t underestimate weeds, sweet one,” his mother warned him, with a single tap on the end of his nose. He’d been caught stomping on a dandelion, squishing the white ball of puff into the dirt with his shoe._

_“They may be unsightly, and even unwelcome by many, but when you take a moment to look further they are diligent and beautiful in their own right.  They can adapt, grow in almost any environment.  Weeds are incredibly strong.  We should aspire to be like them,” Dís insisted, her eyes steady and sincere as she bent low to blow the seeds into the air.  Kíli watched them spread across the land, some floating off so far he was no longer able to make them out._

It was a relatively happy memory, one of the few he had of her, before her job began to weigh her down and life became too cruel to handle.  She spoke of so few things with such fondness, and Kíli always wondered how such a small thing ever seemed so special to her.  But when he walked amongst the fields and saw the endless sea of yellow petals in the summer, he understood her fascination with the plant.  He wished he could have lived by her words, thrived just like the weeds in the roughest of conditions.  But he wasn’t a weed, he was just a person.  A sad excuse for a person, and it was only a matter of time before someone trampled his body into the ground.  And unlike a dandelion, he wouldn’t grow back; instead he’d just be gone.       

* * *

The cornfields seemed endless out his window as Kíli drove back from the next town over.  It was the closest grocery store to Astermoor, and he was getting tired of buying greasy crap from the fast food joints within walking distance of his apartment.  The brunet glanced towards the two grocery bags on the seat next to him and smiled faintly.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get him through at least a couple weeks if he rationed it properly. 

Kíli steered down the road, going way faster than the designated limit.  It was the beauty of country roads, the cops didn’t care how fast you went, and even if they did, you could see if one was coming from miles away.  His windows were down and Kíli revelled in the feeling of the wind on his face, blowing his dark hair around his neck wildly.  For once everything was perfect, until his truck made a sickening guttural sound, followed by a loud bang, and Kíli gasped as the engine began to overheat.  Smoke seeped out from beneath the hood, and he skidded off the road then quickly put his truck in park.     

“No, no, come on babe, not now,” Kíli pleaded, rubbing his hands frantically across the worn leather of the steering wheel.  He struggled against his seat belt, cursing as he couldn’t manage to find the release.  When he finally heard the tell-tale snap, the brunet was out the door in a second and lifting the hood of his truck.  He backed away and coughed loudly as smoke billowed out around his head, and after waving his hands around to clear some of it away, Kíli felt his eyes filling up with tears.  The interior workings were like a map he couldn’t read, and even though he saw where the smoke was coming from, he had absolutely no idea how to fix it.

“Damn it!” Kíli shouted, kicking at the front bumper angrily.  It slid off its hinges and slumped awkwardly in front of the truck.

“Piece of shit!” Kíli hissed, feeling his throat begin to tighten. The brunet walked out into the road, and ran shaky hands through his hair.  He was completely screwed without his truck.  There was no other way for him to get between the surrounding towns, which meant he’d be confined to buying food and supplies within his city’s limits.  On top of that it had always acted as a small glimpse of hope in his life.  He foolishly believed someday he’d make enough to get in that truck and drive away, just keep going until he found a better place.  Kíli laughed out loud at the impossible dream.

It was at least an hour walk back to town, maybe two, and he couldn’t afford to get his truck towed from way out in the middle of nowhere, let alone fixed.  He’d be lucky if no one stole it in the amount of time it took to get someone to take it back into the city.  Kíli reached through the window and started rustling through his bags for the recently purchased pack of smokes, but paused when he heard a low roaring in the distance.  His eyes searched the horizon, and he narrowed them suspiciously when he saw a motorcycle approaching incredibly fast.  Kíli leaned against the door of his truck anxiously, trying to look calm and uninterested in whoever was approaching, but it was pretty obvious he was in trouble.  His truck was blatantly broken down, and he was standing outside it like a damn idiot, staring blankly at the ground.  And you’d have to be a complete fool not to notice the smoke billowing out from his hood.

The biker zoomed past, and Kíli squinted as the loud noise pierced his eardrums, sighing heavily in relief.  The last thing he needed was a gang member hassling him on a vacant country road.  He watched the rider drive off for a while, and tensed when he saw whoever it was turn around and circle back.  Kíli groaned lowly and took in a heavy breath.  He didn’t feel like dealing with some asshole, he just wanted to get home with his groceries, even if that meant sucking it up and walking the distance.  The brunet kept a stony mask on his face as the hog drew near, parking just in front of him, and when the man lifted his helmet Kíli gaped at the sight of familiar blond hair.      

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath as Fíli slid off his bike and sauntered up beside him, looking at the dark clouds of smoke rising upwards pointedly.  As per usual the blond said nothing, but the two shared a quick glance, and Fíli walked around the front of the truck, taking off his jacket and tossing it roughly at Kíli.  The brunet fumbled the fabric around a bit and tried unsuccessfully to keep his eyes from roaming across the other man’s body.  Intricate designs covered Fíli’s biceps, and continued to wrap up over his shoulders and neck.  It looked like many more tattoos remained hidden beneath his shirt, and Kíli wished he could make out the shapes more clearly.  As the blond lifted the hood and bent over, Kíli’s eyes dropped, and he mentally berated himself for acting so sleazy, even as he ogled the other man thoroughly. 

The brunet followed Fíli suspiciously, covering his mouth to ease his breathing as he leaned curiously over the other man’s shoulder.  He couldn’t make sense of anything inside his truck, but Fíli was fiddling with wires and tinkering around like he knew exactly what he was looking for.  Kíli ran his fingers across the embroidery on the jacket mindlessly, trying to quell the anticipation looming in his gut.  After a bit of rearranging the smoke began dissipating, and Fíli closed the hood before leaning into the driver’s seat to turn the keys.  The engine roared to life loudly, and Kíli gawked at the blond and placed his hands gently on the frame of his truck, barely noticing as several paint chips flaked off and fell to the ground.  Fíli was resting one arm on the roof, and eyed the brunet expectantly, his other hand casually hooked inside one of his pockets.

“Thanks,” Kíli voiced, and then he shoved the jacket into the other man’s chest and waited for him to move away.  Fíli made no sign of budging, and only slung his coat over a shoulder as his eyes moved down the brunet’s form, lingering just beneath the edge of his shorts.  It made Kíli squirm, but he had no right to get angry, not when he’d done something equally as distasteful only moments prior.  It took every ounce of his will not to tug at the hem, and he nibbled on his lip as he wondered what the other man was waiting for.  Payment perhaps?  Kíli narrowed his eyes.  He didn’t ask for the blond’s help, and they never agreed on any kind of deal.  However, he was dealing with a member of a notorious gang that likely cared little for formalities. 

Honestly normally Kíli would have gladly paid for someone to fix up his truck, but on that day Kíli possessed not a single cent to spare.  His eyes flittered nervously around until he came to a decision.  The brunet leaned inside the truck, and reached over towards his grocery bags.  It took several seconds of shuffling around inside them before he pulled back out and tossed a single apple at the blond.  Fíli caught it smoothly, and then eyed the fruit with a raised eyebrow.     

“For your trouble,” Kíli commented, watching Fíli’s reaction intently.  The other man just stared at him blankly, the apple held up between his fingers.

“I ain’t got a whole lot of cash right now,” Kíli explained, looking away in shame at his pathetic gesture and he fiddled with his shirt sleeve nervously when he heard Fíli bite into the apple with a loud crunch.  The blond took his time whittling away at the granny smith while Kíli stood impatiently nearby and watched.  He wanted to get back inside his truck and drive off, but the other man’s presence put him on edge and kept him from doing so.  Kíli’s eyes followed the blond’s movements as he took a few more nibbles and tossed the core off to the side of the road.  Fíli wiped a thumb along his lip enticingly, and then he sidled up next to the window and leaned inside the truck again, this time brushing his body up against Kíli’s so that the brunet became flush against the door.  Fíli’s neck muscles contracted before Kíli’s gaze, and he inhaled the intoxicating scent that clung to the other man’s body.  It was rich and spicy, and Kíli felt his legs begin to shake as he imagined what the blond’s skin might taste like on his tongue.

When Fíli pulled away he smacked something teasingly against the side of Kíli’s head, and the brunet caught sight of his recently purchased pack of cigarettes.  He turned around and looked into his truck with wide eyes, noting the open grocery bags strewn over his seat, and then he gaped at Fíli incredulously.

“Stop buying these and you’d have more,” Fíli commented, and then he shoved the unopened box into his back pocket and walked away, leaving Kíli in a petrified state once again.  The brunet felt the hairs on his arms standing on end as he watched Fíli get back on his bike and drive away, his leather jacket flapping furiously on the wind.  He couldn’t even find the will to feel angry at the blond’s theft, instead focusing on his last words spoken.  Fíli was right, after all.  Kíli should have stopped smoking ages ago, never should have started to begin with.  It was nothing more than a money pit, all for a stupid sense of false security.  Kíli scratched his sandals against the dirt beneath his feet and moved around the front of his truck, bending low to realign the bumper as best he could.  It screeched as he bent it inelegantly into place, and his eyes lingered on the distorted reflection of himself in the metal.  The strange elongated shape made him appear gaunt and disgusting, but it wasn’t all that far off from the truth.  When had he become so pitiful?

* * *

On Kíli’s next night shift the club was full of activity.  The entire gang was present, not just the few he’d met, and they took up several tables in the middle of the club.  There were numerous ragged looking additions, with long intricate beards and battle worn faces.  They laughed and conversed together, drank away the evening, while Fíli sat at the centre and watched over the proceedings with his ever inquisitive eyes.  The men cheered loudly at the dancers, and made risky bets amongst one another, appearing deceivingly harmless at first glance.  After a few days the people were almost becoming acclimatised to the new presence in town, no longer shying away from approaching the strangers for various business interactions.  Kíli had noticed several hushed conversations taking place in the booths, and inconspicuous exchanges of money beneath the tables he waited on.  He was curious about what exactly went on in the dark of night, but knew it was best to keep his distance.  Kíli didn’t want to make the same mistakes as his mother, didn’t want to get involved in something bigger than he was cut out for.  He’d heard rumours of what lengths men like those went to in an effort to punish their enemies.  He wasn’t afraid of dying per se, but rather the torture that might come before.

The brunet struggled to twist between the tables, using two hands to steady his tray for once.  There were a lot of rowdy clients surrounding the stage, leering at the half-clothed female that currently twined around just above.  Jesse really knew how to work a crowd, especially an overly inebriated one, and the men and even a few women were practically trying to climb up on stage with her.  The glasses jingled precariously as Kíli barely kept his tray steady, flinching every now and then as stray hands touched the bare skin at his waist.  He paused to put down a glass, and glared as he caught one of the customers making a ruckus with Tauriel just a few feet away.  The redheaded girl was obviously trying to get away and continue working, but some asshole had her by the wrist and refused to let go.  Kíli may not have been friends with her, but at work they supported each other whenever possible, and the brunet nearly growled as he stepped up and yanked the man’s hand away.

“Hey leave her alone,” Kíli hissed over the loud cries of the crowd.  Tauriel immediately moved away, holding her wrist tight to her body, and Kíli did his best not to back down as the sleaze bag turned infuriated eyes on him.  He barely had time to think before a fist slammed into the side of his face, knocking him off balance.  The tray of drinks fell to the side, crashing across the floor, and Kíli tumbled into a nearby table at the force of the blow.  He blinked in shock and lifted his palm to wipe across his lower lip, taking in the streak of blood with disoriented eyes.  Without a moment to think a hand gripped his ponytail and tugged hard, yanking his neck backwards.     

“Get off him you asshole!” another waiter shouted loudly, and then he was released as several blows were thrown amongst the people nearby him.  Kíli fumbled around, briefly catching sight of one of the gang members whipping past his body.  Noki? Nobi?  No-something, he couldn’t remember with his head throbbing the way it was.  And then the big one, named Dwalin, shoved him down hard.

“Get under the table!” the bald man bellowed, and Kíli fell to his knees, still trying to quell the pounding in his head.  The brunet knew he could defend himself, and nearly got back up to do so, until he saw someone smash a glass over another man’s head.  Whoever it was collapsed to the ground in a mess of broken teeth and blood, and Kíli inched beneath the table for cover instead.  He jolted as he met shoulder to shoulder with Ori, and the scruffy haired kid grinned at him broadly with bright eyes.  Kíli wasn’t sure what to expect from him, and his eyes narrowed as the small statured biker pulled a knife from inside his boot.  A few seconds later Ori reached out and stabbed the blade into a stranger’s foot, and Kíli gasped in surprise and shuffled backwards at the action.  He jerked as his back banged into someone’s legs, and as he gazed up from beneath the wood Kíli realized just who’s table he was hiding under. 

Fíli sat calmly in his seat, not participating at all, even though the entire bar was entering a full out brawl.  Strong fingers moved over Kíli’s shoulder, holding him in place firmly for a moment and the brunet seized up at the touch but did not pull away from it.  He shivered as they slid up his neck, just barely toying with the hairs beneath his ear before grazing the side of his face.  Kíli’s dark eyes studied Fíli’s face from below as the blond stared out at the fighting with visible confidence.  He looked superior, in command, and though he did not speak a single word, his posture and expression spoke volumes.  The neon lights above illuminated his golden hair, making him appear unearthly and godlike.  He looked like some kind of king.  And in that moment, Kíli almost wished he was his.

A man fell roughly against the legs of the table, knocking it to the side, and then he collapsed unconscious on the ground, immediately breaking the illusion.  Kíli pulled away from Fíli’s touch and peered out from under the table at the chaos all around.  Bodies were draped across tables and lying on the floor, dancers kicked men away from the stage, and the bouncers failed to hold off the rest of the fighting.  Benny was hoisting drunkards from the floor, trying to shove them outside while he barked orders out furiously, and moments later the doors of the bar swung open and the place filled with cops.  Kíli watched them cuff a variety of men, and somehow every member of the gang came out completely unscathed.  It was like they were invisible to them, completely untouchable. 

The brunet stood up on shaky legs, taking a moment to steady his body against the table.  When Fíli’s chair skidded across the floor and the blond moved to stand, it was like a mysterious force came over everyone in the club.  The rest of the bikers looked towards him and gathered, and then Fíli brushed up against Kíli’s side and paused to wipe his thumb across the brunet’s bloody lip.  After depositing several bills on the table, all of them left, leaving the club in unnatural silence and complete shambles.           

Kíli stepped gracelessly over a man still groaning in pain on the floor, his shoes crunching atop broken glass.  He saw Benny yelling at someone in a rage at the mess left behind, and a couple of the dancers trying to pull glass from one of the waiter’s legs.  Kíli felt only a small amount of guilt at the brief feeling of glee at knowing he might get a few extra shifts as a result of the injury.  

The brunet spent the rest of his shift sweeping the bar and cleaning blood off of table tops.  He worked until close, picking up the slack from those who were forced to go home early.  The odd man stuck around for a drink, but the mood inside was visibly muted in comparison to earlier in the night.  Kíli was exhausted when he finally set foot out the backdoors to head home.  He was bruised from getting knocked around, and his lip throbbed painfully and was in desperate need of icing.  His eyes briefly glanced towards the small patch of cement across the road as he rounded the corner to begin walking home.  Fíli and the other bikers were absent, unsurprisingly at such a late hour, but the brunet still felt a dull pain settle in his chest.  The walk home was long and lonely, and Kíli barely remembered how he managed to get undressed and tucked into bed.

* * *

_Hands closed around his neck and held him fast to the ground while Kíli reached out desperately, clawing at the arms stretching out from his body.  He couldn’t see the faces of his attackers, but he could hear their voices, their raucous laughter as he struggled to breathe.  Someone pulled at his shirt, tearing the fabric, and he felt a stinging sensation against his skin.  Kíli’s eyes widened as he realised someone had stabbed him.  He saw the wound, gaping and growing in size, blood seeping out over his body and leaving him lying in a dark red puddle.  He was kicked, and his body rolled down a small incline, the rocks and weeds scratching at his form.  The sun shone impossibly bright above him, and all he could smell was the overpowering scent of ragweed.  Vines grew out from his surroundings, wrapping around his limbs and tugging him deeper beneath the soil.  And as he sank further into the earth, the dirt beginning to crumble over his face, Kíli gasped for air one last time.  His sight faded, and his fingers crumpled as everything turned black, and the only thing he could make sense of was the distinct sound of his mother’s screams._

Kíli flew up from beneath his covers, rolling over the side of the bed.  He fell to the floor with a shout, his feet caught on the sheets and suspended just above his body.  His heart was beating so rapidly he thought it might jump out of his chest, and he raised shaking hands above his eyes as he struggled to calm down. 

He was in his room. He was safe. It was just a dream. 

Kíli repeated the mantra over and over in his mind until his breathing steadied and he was able to sit up enough to disentangle his limbs.  His feet fell to the ground with a loud thump and the brunet slid up against the side of his bed, resting his back gently against the frame as he stared across at the wall.  His eyes lingered on a crack near the ground, the paint chipping all around it from some kind of water damage.  Kíli felt like he’d been run over by a transport.  His head was throbbing, and his body ached, even his throat was raw from gasping and screaming in his sleep.  It was not the first time he’d had such a frightening dream.  Nightmares often caught him off guard in the dead of night, attacking him when he least expected it.  But it seemed like they were getting more frequent and much more difficult to break free from.

Kíli bent his head forwards and rubbed furiously at his eyes before dragging his fingers down his face.  He flinched as they rubbed up against his split lip, and the brunet groaned as he realized he forgot to ice it.

“Shit,” Kíli muttered under his breath, and he tentatively touched around the swollen skin and crawled towards his bedside table.  The brunet scrambled around the surface until he grasped the tiny mirror settled atop.  It took him a few moments to focus his eyes, and he studied the bruising around his mouth worriedly.  He looked terrible.  No one would give tips to a face looking like that, no matter how good his service was.  Kíli sagged and let his body fall to the floor lifelessly.  He didn’t want to get up.  He didn’t want to move.  If not for his baffling desire to go on living he might have stayed flat on the ground for days, staring blankly at the stained ceiling above.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter part than the first, but the next one will be the longest! :)

The selection before him hardly excited Kíli at all.  His fingers hovered over the display case holding five different kinds of sodas and a few juices he didn’t particularly care for.  In the end he chose the disgusting, sugar laden cola, craving the burn it would inflict upon his throat.  He needed something to distract him from the overwhelming stress running through his frame, something to keep his hands busy before he ended up wasting what little cash he had on cigarettes instead. 

Kíli studied the label on the glass bottle for a minute and peered to the side as someone leaned over him and slid the case open to reach for a drink.  A familiar masculine scent invaded his nostrils and he nearly rolled his eyes as he recognized Fíli’s sturdy frame.  It seemed like the biker was always nearby and Kíli turned and raised his eyebrow as he stared pointedly into the blond’s deep blue eyes.  Fíli appeared unfazed by the scrutiny, and mimicked his expression as the sliding door thumped back into place.  On queue Kíli’s heart rate increased ever so slightly, and he could hear it thumping inside his ear drums as he struggled not to look away from the other man’s gaze.

“You don’t say much,” Kíli commented, twisting the bottle idly in his hands.  His eyes wandered slightly, and his lashes fluttered as he grew more uncomfortable in the confined space.

“Not much to say,” Fíli shrugged and eyed him up and down.  At least Kíli didn’t feel quite as exposed as usual.  He had his jeans on that day, and though several holes riddled the front, it was far more cover than his shorts ever provided.  His shirt, however, hung low beneath his neck, exposing the ridges along his collarbone, and Fíli’s eyes seemed to follow the line of sweat gleaming atop his skin.  Kíli was sure the other man must have noticed his unsteady breathing, and the way his muscles contracted as he tensed his jaw.  Getting sized up irked him to no end, and he frowned and gripped the soda tightly between his fingers in reaction.

“Don’t know what your business is here, but you should just leave.  This town don’t take kindly to strangers like you and your crew,” Kíli sneered.  The blond made no visible sign of discomfort at the underlying accusation, instead pausing to unscrew his drink and take a long gulp.  Kíli watched the other man swallow, and tried to pull his gaze away from the blond’s neck with little success.  The action exposed yet another tattoo on Fíli’s bronzed skin, what looked to be the head of a wild animal, its mouth bared, long jagged teeth framing the centre of the blond’s neck.   Kíli nearly snorted when he realised it was a lion, and he might have if he wasn’t so damn enraptured by the sight.  Kíli wanted to drag his fingers along the outline, suck marks along the linework, and tear away the shirt that hid the rest of the beast’s strong form.      

“Ain’t got no business here, just passing through,” Fíli murmured, and he twisted slightly to flip through the covers of some magazines on a nearby shelf.  Most of them featured busty women in swimsuits, and for some reason failed to grasp the man’s interest.

“Bullshit,” Kíli spat, drawing Fíli’s full attention towards his face.  Kíli nearly fell back at the intensity behind the blond’s gaze, and he took a deep breath and stepped backwards once or twice just in case.

“You woulda left by now,” he voiced with far less force, and Kíli dropped his eyes and moved away before he managed to permanently dig his own grave.  It was a stupid idea to willingly confront a gang member in such a way, and to be honest, Fíli had not done anything to deserve such vehemence from him.  If anything, Kíli was in debt to the other man.  Sure, the blond stared at him in ways that made his knees quake and tremble, but it was no worse than he received on any other night working at Dusk.  At least Fíli didn’t catcall or direct rude remarks towards him.  Besides, if not for Fíli, his truck likely would have found permanent residence on the side of the road.  And Kíli had a feeling he’d be sporting more than just a bruised lip from the scuffle in the bar as well.  The brunet frowned in frustration and he inched around the other man, suddenly feeling trapped, and like he desperately needed fresh air inside his lungs.  He pushed roughly against Fíli’s side on the way, but before he managed to get very far something tugged at the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back.  Kíli’s heart ceased as he slammed up against the glass pop display, and he snapped his eyes shut in preparation for a blow, but it never came.  Instead he felt the faintest touch against his lips. 

Kíli’s eyes opened wide, and he gasped into the kiss, groaning as Fíli took the opportunity to heighten it and shove his tongue inside to roam.  The brunet’s face deepened in colour, and he felt chills running down his back as Fíli’s facial hair scratched against his chin.  The blond’s belt buckle chafed against his abdomen, and he felt the hair on his arms stand on end as solid muscle pushed his body forcefully into the display case.   His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and then out of nowhere the blond pulled away, leaving him breathless and misty eyed.  Kíli stood flush against the pop cooler, his mouth gaping at the other man in surprise as he caught his breath, and Fíli hovered over him provocatively, a fiery gleam within his eyes.  The blond’s face was cast in shadow, making him look more dangerous than ever, and Kíli shuddered as his sweaty fingers began losing their hold on the glass bottle clasped within them.

“Dwalin was right,” Fíli murmured in a low tone, as he ran the tips of his fingers down the side of Kíli’s face seductively.

“You’d look like an angel on that stage,” he looked directly into Kíli’s eyes, holding his gaze and daring him to object.  Kíli found himself lost in the other man’s blue irises, still trying to wrap his mind around the sudden kiss.  Before he had a chance to react the pop bottle was tugged from his grasp and Fíli was gone, making his way up to the teller.  Kíli watched the blond pay for the drinks, his brow scrunched up slightly in bafflement, and then Fíli turned and tossed the bottle back towards him.  The brunet reacted quickly, catching the drink in mid-air, and then he stared at the soda oddly as the bell above the door jingled.  Kíli’s gaze flashed, his head suddenly clearing, and he chased after the man, running from the store and zeroing in on Fíli just as the blond slung a leg over his bike.

“Hey!” Kíli shouted, and then he stomped towards the biker until he stood right next to him, and jabbed a single finger into the blond’s muscular chest.  Fíli stared at the digit, his helmet clasped between his hands, but the brunet disregarded him and began his rant.

“You can’t just kiss someone like that! Outta nowhere! I ain’t some piece of meat!” Kíli bellowed, his eyebrows drawn together, and his face flushing in anger along with the remnants of heated arousal.  He watched as Fíli put his helmet on and took a sip of his drink, settling into position on his bike.  The blond barely reacted to him at all and Kíli growled in frustration at getting ignored.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kíli demanded, shaking the pop around as he flailed his arms dramatically.  Fíli’s eyes met his for a moment, and then the blond put on his sunglasses and revved the engine, propping his foot up on the rest.

“You quit,” he drawled, leaning back to stretch out his shoulders.  The brunet faltered and tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Huh?” Kíli blurted, caught off guard by the unusual statement, and despite the dark sunglasses in the way, he was sure the other man was staring at him raptly.

“Smoking,” Fíli clarified with a small nod of his head.  Kíli heaved for a few moments, and scrunched his eyebrows together as he eyed the other man in disbelief.

“How’d you…?” Kíli trailed off, flushing as he caught sight of a subtle smirk on the other man’s lips.  Fíli reached out one last time, just barely touching the brunet’s lower lip, and then he pulled up a scarf over his face and drove out of the tiny parking lot.  Kíli blinked a few times and looked down at his feet with a puzzled expression.  Had Fíli actually been able to tell he stopped smoking just from a single kiss?  It wasn’t like it had been that long since his last cigarette, maybe a few days.  And he stopped more for himself than anything else, not for some random biker from some random town. 

Definitely not.

Kíli twisted the cap off of his soda and gasped in surprise as it fizzed out over the rim and down his hands, leaving sticky trails along his skin.  He shook the liquid off in annoyance and sipped away what he could, closing his eyes as the carbonated drink burned the back of his throat as promised.  For once he felt something other than misery and despair as he swallowed the bubbly drink, and he sighed loudly in satisfaction.  Kíli ran his tongue across his lips, recalling the short-lived but exhilarating kiss he’d shared with the blond stranger.  He wanted more, so much more, and a very large part of him felt ashamed of that.  But absolutely nothing compared to the all-encompassing feeling of Fíli’s fingers and lips on his skin, especially not some stupid drink.  Kíli’s face heated and his entire body shivered at the memory.  Just thinking about the brief contact made him feel alive. 

* * *

Kíli knocked on the door of Benny’s office trying to hold his nervousness at bay.  Speaking to his boss always ended up pissing him off.  The guy was a complete sleaze, and honestly cared very little for his employees.  But Kíli was in desperate need of more cash.  His rent payment was already overdue, and it was only a matter of time before he ended up thrown out of the place and left on his own to survive.  Kíli wiped his sweaty palms against his jeans and stood up straight when he heard a voice shout at him from the other side of the door.  After a deep breath, the brunet opened the door and slid inside, glancing over at the desk Benny sat at.  He was greasy haired and poorly kempt as per usual, wearing a pin striped suit that looked out of place on his wiry frame.  The man barely took a moment to glance at him, instead leaning low to unlock his safe, and Kíli stepped closer and loomed over the desk after growing increasingly impatient with his employer.     


“What do you want?  I’ve already paid you for this week, and there’s no way in hell yer gettin’ another advance,” Benny sneered, licking his thumb before he began counting out the bills in front of him. Kíli watched the money pile up enviously, wondering what it would be like to have even a fraction of the other man’s wealth for a single day of his life.

“I…I need more hours,” Kíli stuttered, his voice slightly shaky as he focused on the mysterious stains littering the desk below.

“You get enough, no less than the other waiters,” Benny spat out, his head lowered, and he proceeded to straighten a stack of the bills before starting another.  Kíli pursed his lips in irritation and clenched his fingers into fists. 

“Then more night shifts at least, I need the tips,” Kíli spoke, and he knew it sounded desperate.

“Che, it’s all you brats ever talk about, give me this give me that, I don’t got any more night shifts for yeh, they’re all filled up,” Benny sneered, finally sitting back in his chair.  Kíli didn’t like the way the disgusting man flaunted his money, and he despised his arrogance.  Benny was everything he hated about humanity combined into one person.  Greedy, rude, egotistical, and corrupt.  He would have given anything to bury the slimy man’s business in the ground, but unfortunately Benny’s business was Kíli’s only chance of getting a paycheque each week.  Still, watching the other man flash his superior smirk made bile rise up in Kíli’s throat and he snapped at him without thinking.

“Maybe if you paid some of us more than minimum we’d be happier and stop complainin’,” Kíli hissed, and he slammed his hand on top of Benny’s desk and let his nails scratch against the surface.  He immediately felt shame settling in his gut.  The brunet hated the way he let money control him.  It made him angry, made him beg like a stray dog.  Kíli was better than that, he knew he was, but without money, he felt helpless. 

Benny’s expression darkened at the brunet’s words, and the man leaned forward in his chair and settled his arms on the edge of the desk, looking up at Kíli through narrowed eyes.  The brunet swallowed nervously and his hand fell away from the wood with an uncomfortable scraping sound.

“I don’t give two shits about your happiness.  If you want more cash, then get up on that stage like you were meant to,” Benny shot back, his voice low and gruff, laced with vehemence that made Kíli fear for his life.  He knew what his employer was capable of, that he could easily do away with Kíli if the brunet took even a single step in the wrong direction.  The bouncers around the club weren’t there just for show.  Kíli’s gaze dropped to the ground and he gripped his left wrist tightly.

“No? That’s what I thought,” Benny jeered, and Kíli flinched as he heard the other man’s chair skidding across the ground.  The safe door slammed closed, and the brunet blinked as rancid breath blew into his face, his body stiffening as Benny sidled up beside him and whispered in his ear.

“So damn stubborn, just like your good for nothin’ mother,” Benny murmured distastefully, and Kíli flinched violently.  It took every ounce of his being to refrain from lashing out.  The brunet’s eyes veered towards the other man’s pocket, barely visible beneath his fancy jacket.  Kíli could just make out the metallic handle of a handgun and he knew he was very close to getting the barrel pointed at his skull.

“You’re lucky you’ve even got a job with that attitude of yours, I did you a favour hiring you in the first place.  Get out of my sight, you ungrateful rat,” Benny ordered, his bulbous yellowing eyes peering at Kíli from below.  The brunet grimaced and stepped to the side, trying not to vomit at the stench rising from the other man.  He inched towards the door, jolting as his back pressed against the handle, and then Kíli stormed out at the first available opportunity.

* * *

He didn’t realize just how bad his situation had become until he found himself leaning over a garbage can inspecting the contents thoroughly.  Kíli was beyond hungry, and the half eaten burger sitting just a foot down inside was far more appealing than he wanted it to be.  Kíli’s fingers trembled on the rim of the can and he pushed away from it aggressively.  No!  He wasn’t that desperate.  Not yet.  His fridge was barren, and his pockets nearly empty, but he could go for a few more hours without food.  His stomach ached slightly as he wandered spiritlessly down the sidewalk, wishing that the hours until his shift would fly by for once.  Kíli eyed his shoes as his feet moved across the cement, taking note of the fraying holes forming at the sides.  He’d nearly worn them out; he’d nearly worn everything he owned out.   


His feet dragged, and he blinked the tears from his eyes and paused, falling against the brick wall nearby in misery.  His throat was parched and he ran his fingers through the long tangled strands of hair hanging over his shoulders.  His nails snagged on the knots, and he winced and wished he’d tied it up instead of leaving it down.  His thoughts were overwhelmingly crowded, and he was having difficulty focusing on any one thing in particular, but Kíli’s eyes drifted to the side and he narrowed them when he heard hushed angry voices coming from the alleyway nearby.  Kíli glanced around quickly and debated moving closer to listen in.  He was on a less travelled side street in town, and not another soul was in sight, except for a single elderly woman crossing the street several blocks away.  Kíli’s curiosity was always a dangerous thing, and he wasn’t in his right mind, so before he really thought about it, his head was inching around the edge of the wall as he peered into the shadows. 

Kíli’s hunger was temporarily forgotten and his eyes widened as he made out several familiar figures standing huddled together between the brick walls.  Fíli was there, looking as impressive as always, his hand gripped on an emergency escape ladder as he stared menacingly at a man Kíli vaguely recognized as a patron at the bar.  The stranger was small statured, and pasty, with jet black hair and a well-worn tweed jacket.  Dwalin blocked the man’s escape path from the alley, his small companion unusually absent, and Nori was slowly creeping closer to him while Bofur leaned casually next to Fíli on the opposite wall.  It was obviously not an interaction meant for his eyes, but he could not pull his gaze away.

“We had a deal, and you’re trying to back out of it,” Nori sneered, sauntering towards the man ominously, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.  The studs on his sleeves caught the briefest flash of light, shining down the alleyway and highlighting his jerky movements.

“N-no no I’m not, I swear it,” the man stuttered, backing up into the wall behind him, his hands held out in front of his body in defense.  He looked terrified, and on the verge of passing out as Nori got up in his face.

“You promised you’d deliver it to us by today, so what’s the hold up?” Nori pressed, spitting in the stranger’s face as he stared him down.  The man shrank further into himself and cowered beneath Nori’s even smaller frame.

“Look, Benny’s not the sort you just swindle like that.  The dude’s psychotic, carries a gun on ‘im all the time.  He’s paranoid, keeps the keys hidden somewhere on his body.  He…He’ll kill me if he catches me,” The man pleaded with them, but it had little effect. 

“Besides, wasn’t it e-enough that I let you know where it was?  You didn’t r-really expect me to steal the stuff too r-right?”  He fumbled around nervously, looking pleadingly at the men around him.  Kíli noticed the slight flinch of Fíli’s biceps as he gripped the stairwell tighter in his fist, and though his face looked the same, his eyes flashed with fury.

“That was part of the agreement and you know it!  When Oakenshield hears about this, he’ll want you dead as well.  We need what’s in that safe!” Dwalin bellowed, his face reddening as he glared at the man and widened his stance.  Kíli held in a gasp as Nori suddenly flew forwards, pushing the man hard against the wall as he produced a knife from the confines of his clothing.  The blade glinted as it pressed into the stranger’s neck, and Kíli watched him tremble in horror against the bricks.  The brunet was frozen, unable to move away from the alley for fear of making a sound.

“Yeah, we’re the ones you ought to be afraid of.  Not fond of liars, or incompetent thieves,” Nori snapped.

“Woah! Woah, alright…I…I’ll get it, tonight,” the man swore, and slowly Nori backed away, allowing the other man to slump against the wall.  The five men stood in an awkward silence, glancing between one another and finally the stranger edged to the side, and Dwalin regretfully let him pass.  Kíli was so surprised that he didn’t move out of the way in time, and the man flew right into his body, knocking against him hard.  Kíli cried out loudly and stumbled to the side, and the man’s fear blown eyes latched onto his form wildly.

“Get outta my way you freak!”  The man growled, and then he was gone, storming down the street, his jacket whipping around behind him.  Kíli steadied himself, and tentatively looked to the side, caught in the frightening gazes of all four of the men still standing in the alleyway.  Fíli’s eyes were boring into him, and the brunet felt a shiver run up his spine.  The memory of rough lips upon his own came to the forefront of his mind and mingled with his fear.  He was confused, not entirely sure how to react while faced with such an obviously dangerous situation.  He felt like a deer in headlights, clearly caught listening in on something he was not meant to overhear.  The brunet swallowed nervously and took a tentative step away, and then another, until he walked entirely past the alley’s entrance.  His footsteps sped up gradually, and he looked over his shoulder the rest of his trip home.

* * *

Kíli wasn’t entirely surprised when he saw the flashing lights the following morning just at the edge of the southern park.  Yellow tape surrounded the area, and the brunet hovered nearby and listened to the townsfolk gossiping.  A man had been found dead, identified as Duane McAllister, and from what Kíli had heard, he fit the description of the man in the alley the day prior.  The brunet felt dread seep into his bones as he listened to the stories describing the man’s death.  It sounded brutal.  Burnt to a crisp and stuck in the melted remains of what was once a children’s slide.  He’d been found completely surrounded by bits of faded red plastic, his lighter and cigarettes not far away, along with a nearly empty bottle of alcohol.  Apparently the man was known for drowning himself in his sorrows by using recreational drugs and drinking himself into a stupor.  The signs pointed to suicide.   


But Kíli knew better.  And it terrified him.

The conversation he’d overheard was constantly on his mind, and Kíli could not help but wonder what was so important to the gang that it constituted the murder of a seemingly inconsequential man.  What exactly was Benny hiding in his safe?  Was it expensive?  Worth thousands?  Millions?  What if Kíli got to whatever it was first?  The brunet shook his head and discarded the thought immediately.  It was dangerous to even think about.  The more he got involved, the likelier that he’d find himself dead and burnt to a crisp just like McAllister, regardless of whether or not Fíli held any kind of interest for him. 

He knew he was caught in a risky situation.  There were limits to how much someone could pay off the police.  Covering up petty theft, smaller crimes and tavern brawls sure, but murder?  With the right evidence, that sort of thing could land anyone in jail, and Kíli was the only one with any sort of proof.  He was afraid to go almost anywhere in town, and ended up sitting on a bench inside the tiny cemetery, his gaze lingering on his mother’s gravestone.  The brunet sat far away from it, beneath the limited cover of a single tree.  Kíli’s eyes drifted shut and he raised his face, feeling the sun burning speckled patches on the skin of his cheeks.  It should have been relaxing, but he was incredibly tense, and when a slight pressure settled on the back of the bench his eyes opened wide and his entire body seized. 

“I hope yer not thinkin’ about snitching,” a nasally voice sounded in his ears, and Kíli shuddered as warm breath blew against the back of his neck.  He glanced to the side, but couldn’t make out the figure hovering behind him.  The fingers curled around the wood sported familiar tattoos however, and Kíli knew it was one of the men from the gang.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” the brunet mumbled, remaining as calm as he could manage while his fingers clenched forcefully against his legs.  Kíli’s chest tightened as the biker moved around in front of him, and he instantly recognized Nori’s hunched posture and flame red hair.  The man was studying him carefully, his eyes squinting slightly as though it might help him peer into Kíli’s soul. 

“Heh, not just a pretty face then,” Nori mentioned, and then he bent low and placed his fingers beneath the brunet’s chin.  It didn’t feel the way Fíli’s touch did.  It wasn’t exhilarating or sensual, instead it made Kíli feel uncomfortable and afraid, and he flinched away from the hold involuntarily.  Nori snickered at the reaction and stood up straight for once, looking down on the brunet with a wry smirk.

“Don’t worry, Fíli don’t want you dead,” Nori assured him, but the look in his eyes indicated otherwise.  Kíli studied the other man intently, unwilling to move from his seat lest he spur the biker to react unpredictably.  Nori grinned wildly, showing off a false tooth that gleamed beneath the sunlight.  

“But…one word to the wrong people, and even he’ll be forced to slit yer throat,” the redhead warned, and then he was gone, disappearing back the way he came.  Kíli sagged slightly atop the bench, but continued looking around anxiously well after Nori made his exit.  He was even more on edge, and Kíli knew he was teetering precariously on the brink of destruction.  The brunet glanced towards his mother’s stone once again, wondering if she had known her death was coming, if she had felt it creeping up on her.   Kíli inhaled deeply and stood, deciding that there was little use in sitting around waiting for his own demise.  He refused to just give up.  Besides, he didn’t need to fear the gang’s wrath, not just yet; there was no way in hell he would go to the police.  But when he left his apartment the next day, Kíli tucked his pocket knife into his shoe, just in case.       

* * *

It was so warm outside that unlike most nights, even beneath the cover of darkness, long after the sun had set, Kíli was able to drive down the country roads with the windows lowered.  The air still felt mild against his skin, and he took a few deep breaths as he noticed the tell-tale signs reflecting his headlights just ahead.  They marked the distance to the next county, and happened to coincide with a particular crop that interested the brunet.  Kíli turned off his lights, driving the remaining distance at a slower speed, and he pulled off onto the stony shoulder, gradually coming to a stop.  The brunet parked and sat in his seat for a while, making sure he was alone in the area, and then he got out of his truck, hoisting a shoulder bag in toe.    


Kíli inched towards the barbed wire fence, jumping over the slight incline beside the road.  He landed in some brush and hissed as jagged leaves and spurs scratched against his ankles, and then reached inside his bag and rummaged around for his wire cutters.  It took him several minutes, squinting as he ambled around in the darkness to make a big enough gap in the fence.   Eventually there was a sizeable hole, just large enough for his wraithlike figure to slither through.  Kíli pressed his hands across the rough edges of the metal, and pushed his way between the loose wires, grumbling slightly as it proved difficult to manoeuvre through.  Some of the jagged pieces snagged on his shirt, but he kept going anyway, cringing at the sound of the fabric ripping.  Yet another shirt destroyed that he couldn’t’ afford to replace. 

Kíli stepped into the tall stalks of corn eagerly but didn’t venture too far.  He knew he might easily get lost, and didn’t fancy spending the rest of the night trying to find his way out of the field.  He pushed the outer dried up stems from his path until he found a section filled with plants that seemed ripe enough to pick.  Kíli wasted little time, reaching up high to grab the cobs of corn.  He tugged them off one by one, accumulating a hefty amount inside his bag.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he needed food.  There was a constant ache in his gut, one that he couldn’t seem to ignore.  And he was at the point where he really couldn’t spare any change, not even for a meal.  His rent payment was long overdue, and he was still short a good amount.  Every cent he earned went towards that.  And besides, surely the farmer wouldn’t even notice a few measly cobs missing from his crop.  And hopefully they didn’t mind the raspberries he’d taken from the wild bushes a few acres back either. 

Kíli stuffed his bag full as quickly as he could manage, and then he hoisted it over his shoulder, slinking back towards the fence and sliding through.  He winced as one of the wires dragged across his arm, tearing at his skin, but kept going, eager to get back to the safety of his truck. 

He’d never stolen before.  There had been moments in which temptation struck, when customers slumped drunkenly over the tables in Dusk, their wallets hanging mockingly out of back pockets.  Kíli’s fingers always itched to grab at them, to swipe whatever bills were stuffed inside, but never had he acted on those feelings.  And he glanced towards his stolen goods in both excitement and disdain.  He was at an unparalleled low, resorting to theft and begging just to keep afloat.

Kíli jumped back onto the road and hurried inside his truck, tossing the rucksack onto the floor.  Several cobs slipped from the bag but he ignored them and sat back against his seat with a heavy sigh.  He paused to wipe off the wound on his arm, tasting the metallic tang as he licked the blood from his fingers, and then waited a moment, his hand hovering over the keys in the ignition.  The brunet eyed the giant road sign just ahead, barely visible beneath the cover of darkness, and he pursed his lips at the names of the various counties listed.

There was nothing stopping him from just driving in the opposite direction of town, not physically at least.  He could have hit the gas and gone on until his tank ran dry, hopefully ending up in another city with another opportunity.  But always, something held him back.  There were too many ifs, too many unknowns.  What could the ten bucks in his pocket possibly get him?  A few litres of gas?  A quick meal at a fast food joint?  Maybe a bottle of pills so he could overdose and end it all instead.

Kíli scoffed and rubbed at his brow.

The last thing the brunet wanted was to end up starved and alone in a gutter somewhere, with nothing but the clothes on his back to keep him company.  His mother may have wanted him to get out, but not like that, not without a plan and enough money in his pocket to get him by for a solid amount of time.  The brunet clasped his fingers around the steering wheel and bent forwards, resting his head against the worn surface.  The locket around his neck hung loosely beneath his chin, and he felt his eyes stinging with moisture as he watched it rock back and forth.

He couldn’t do it.

Not without her.  It seemed wrong, leaving everything behind, what little that he had.  It wasn’t right that she remained buried beneath the earth while Kíli daydreamed about abandoning her memory and leaving his home in the dust.  It just wasn’t fair…right? 

He sighed loudly, feeling useless and weak.  Even if he had the cash, there would always be something, some stupid reason that kept him going back to that shit hole, even if it was just so he could look down at his mother’s grave one more time.  He missed her.  He missed having one person in his life who was on his side, who actually loved him and supported him, someone who hoped to see him succeed.  Someone who cared.  His shoulders shook and Kíli gritted his teeth as tears leaked from his eyes, dripping down to his knees.  The brunet’s chest heaved and he wrapped his arms around his stomach in despair.  He sobbed until his throat was raw and his chest felt achy, until his head throbbed and snot ran down his face.    

Kíli cursed loudly and threw himself off the wheel, gasping as he fell back against the worn seat.  How many times had he come out so far, only to stare at the possibilities and turn back in the end?  It was futile.  He was a coward.  And he’d never escape the life he had.  A sudden envy emanated through his soul.  How he longed to just be free of it all.  To soar across the roads with little regard for anything but what lay ahead, just as Fíli and his crew must have each time they left one city for another.   Kíli ran his fingers down his face, smearing the tears against his cheeks as he rubbed the liquid from his eyes.  He was so sick of crying! With a final intake of air Kíli turned the keys in the ignition and circled back on the road, letting the wind blowing through his windows dry the wet trails on his face.        

* * *

_The field seemed endless, rows upon rows of flowers dancing along with the wind.  He was happy, smiling even, as he looked up at his mother’s glowing face.  Her eyes were closed but she was grinning broadly as her sundress flittered around her body.  The long plait of dark hair dangled behind her, and she held out her hands towards him, beckoning him._   


_“My little angel,” she sang as Kíli walked towards her.  He stepped slowly at first, and then began to run, desperately trying to embrace her as the distance between them seemed only to grow.  Her face saddened, and Kíli’s heart sank as he failed to reach her.  Suddenly his feet caught in the soil beneath him, the ground around turning into quicksand.  Kíli gasped as he began sinking, and he reached out frantically towards his mother as vines and weeds tangled around his limbs and held him tightly in place, but she was gone._

_A dark figure stood in her place, tall, intimidating, and Kíli gasped as it draw near him and he recognized Fíli’s golden hair.  Kíli tried to run, but he couldn’t, and the blond approached and hovered so close that he was sure he felt the other man’s breath blowing against his skin.  Fíli grasped his head, pulling him in as he devoured his mouth, and Kíli groaned within his hold.  It was fierce, wild, passionate, and Kíli forgot about everything, forgot his home, his worries and his fears.  He shivered as the other man pulled away and brushed their lips together teasingly, and Fíli’s eyes flashed as they bored into his soul._

_“My little angel,” he whispered, a humourless grin forming on his face.  There was a discernable click, then Kíli’s eyes widened as a gun was pressed against his brow, and he stared down the barrel into Fíli’s blue gaze._

_“Let me give you your wings,” the blond hissed, and Kíli heard the gunshot, felt the impact but not the pain.  His body fell, and he saw the sky above as he was encased in a bed of dandelions.  The last thing he saw were hundreds of fluffy white seeds flying up above._

Kíli cried out as his body jerked atop the springy mattress, and he lay still amongst the sheets, completely tensed up as his heart pounded furiously in his chest.  His breathing was rapid, and his eyes wide as he remembered where he was.  Sweat pooled along his spine, the sleep shirt sticking unpleasantly to his skin, and he shivered at the strange sensation along his back.  Kíli relaxed slightly, and moved to sit up, eyeing his lap in surprise.  He was beyond aroused, and the brunet flushed as he realised he’d experienced his first wet dream in years.

“What the fuck?” Kíli murmured, his fingers tightening atop the bed as he tried to recall his dream.  He was sure it had been a nightmare, he was sure he’d been terrified, killed even, and yet, some strange part of him had enjoyed it.  Kíli spent the rest of the morning bent over the toilet bowl, dry heaving until his throat was raw, as he tried to deny his unfathomable desires.

* * *

Kíli’s supply of corn did not last long, and as he pulled open his fridge door and gazed into the empty contents once again, the brunet nibbled wearily at his lower lip.  He was drained, and he clenched his fingers around the handle and shut the door with a frown.  His apartment was completely barren, not a single item of food in sight, but Kíli hesitated to delve even further into his dwindling stash of money for rent.  Digging through dumpsters was beginning to look like his only option, and Kíli figured if he could just manage to get through his night shift, there was a chance he might have a few extra bucks to spend on something to eat.  He sifted through the bills in his wallet carefully, counting them out with a frown.  It would be difficult.  He’d have to work his ass off for tips, but it was possible.   


A heavy knock sounded at his apartment door and Kíli’s eyes widened as he froze briefly before tucking the money away hurriedly.

“Brat! Open the damn door!” echoed through the thin layer of wall, and the brunet grimaced as he realised it was the landlord.  He’d hoped for another day, but Tony had been on his case all week about paying up.  Kíli scrambled to the entranceway and opened the door slightly, gasping as it flew back and got caught on the chain lock.  Tony growled at him through the tiny gap, and Kíli backed away nervously as pressure was put on the rusting links. 

“You better have that rent for me, or so help me I’m breaking this door down,” Tony spat through the opening, showing off his rotting teeth.

“It’ll be cheaper to replace than it is to keep housing your sorry ass,” the man insisted as his thick fingers wrapped around the door frame and he fumbled around for the lock connection.  Kíli panicked and stepped closer looking into Tony’s eyes desperately.

“Please, I swear it, I’ll have it tonight.  I got a shift, I just need my pay is all,” Kíli swore, and he gasped in surprise when Tony’s heavy arm shot forward to grab at his shirt.  The brunet slammed into the frame and grappled with the grip on his collar as Tony’s sour breath blew across his face.

“You been sayin’ that for two weeks already kid, I ain’t got the patience for this, get out!” Tony shouted as he jerked the brunet around aggressively, and Kíli wrenched himself away and stumbled to the ground.

“Please! Please I swear it!” Kíli begged, his eyes wide and pitiful, and then he crawled across the floor and shoved a few bills through the space.

“Here!  Take this, I’ll have the rest tonight!” Kíli promised, swallowing nervously as the money was yanked from between his fingers.  Tony counted the bills quickly and regarded the brunet with cool eyes before backing off of the door.

“Fine, tonight, but you owe me double,” Tony negotiated, and Kíli staggered against the wooden frame as his breath hitched.

“Double!?” Kíli gasped in disbelief.  There was no way he’d be able to get that much money from just one shift, even if the bar was packed and everyone gave him a tip. 

“It’s Interest, kid,” Tony pronounced, a sly smirk settling across his lips.

“Double, tonight, or you’re out,” he sneered before walking away, cursing loudly as he tripped over an empty can of beer in the hallway.  The dog across the hall barked loudly after him, even long after he was gone.  Kíli slid down his door, falling against it as the wood slid shut.  He’d just given the last of his money away without any guarantee of keeping his home.  It may have been a shithole but at least he had somewhere to go at night when exhaustion kicked in.  At least he had a relatively safe place to hide inside when the stresses of the world became too much for him to handle.  But all of that was about to change.  There was no way he’d be able to pay Tony that night, not a chance in hell. 

Kíli sighed and let his gaze linger on the decaying floor.  That wasn’t entirely true.  There was one thing he could do that just might pay enough.  The brunet picked at his nails as he processed the idea.  It wasn’t like he had much choice.  Kíli raised a hand and wrapped his fingers tight about the locket around his neck, closing his eyes in despair.  His head hung low over his knees, and his lip trembled as he wondered if it might be better just to starve to death on the street.

But he was too damn stubborn to just give up.

* * *

Kíli stomped through the club, making his way directly to Benny’s office without a single word or glance towards the others in the bar.  He knew it wouldn’t take much to shake his confidence, to convince him he was making a mistake.  One glance at the sleazy customers swarmed around the stage would be enough to deter him, even if it meant begging for money from strangers.  Kíli didn’t even knock on the office door, instead pushing it open and walking right up to his boss’s desk while the guard nearby shouted after him angrily.  The seedy man merely glanced at him in disdain before directing his attention elsewhere.    


“Benny, I’ll do it,” Kíli voiced, trying to hide the nervous shaking of his frame.  Benny ignored him and the brunet scrunched his fingers into fists.

“I said I’ll do it,” Kíli tried again, finally getting the other man’s attention.

“Do what exactly?” Benny asked, looking delightfully pleased with the brunet’s building frustration.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, put me on that damn stage tonight,” Kíli growled through gritted teeth.  Benny sat back and smirked at him and the brunet wanted nothing more than to throw himself over the desk and slam his fist into the other man’s face.  Luckily he was smart enough to know that would only end poorly.  The bouncer was still lingering at the entrance and Kíli knew Benny likely had his gun at hand.  He wouldn’t get two feet before it was aimed at the back of his head.

“I’d love to babe, but regrettably I don’t have a free slot,” Benny sneered and Kíli slammed his hands into the desk, his nails scratching across the grain so hard they left marks. 

“Bullshit Benny!” Kíli shouted, and he felt a small amount of glee when the man’s smirk faltered.

“Everyone knows you’re short a dancer in the night shift, and you know just how much money my Ma brought in for you,” Kíli continued, watching Benny’s expression morph into curiosity.  The man’s eyes roamed Kíli’s form with interest as though he was imagining the money the brunet might bring in.  It disgusted Kíli, and he was sure it showed on his face, but it was all he had left.  Without really thinking about it Kíli’s gaze veered towards the safe on the far wall, and he narrowed his eyes slightly before looking away quickly.  That was a path he needed to stay away from at all costs.

“Put me on, and pay me right,” Kíli demanded, and Benny tapped his fingers against the desk and narrowed his eyes.  The greasy man licked his lips and Kíli squirmed as his beady eyes lingered on his form. 

“Fine,” Benny spoke with a sinister smirk.  He leaned forward and pulled a slip of paper from a drawer in his desk, then slid it across the top towards the brunet, slapping a pen down atop it.

“Sign,” he ordered, and Kíli blinked down at the contract reserved for dancers, hardly understanding half the jargon littered across the page.  He knew it was binding, and he knew there was no going back, but the specified wage at the bottom caught Kíli’s eye and he focused on that as his fingers lifted the pen shakily.  He thought of the girls that had gone missing, the dancers that suddenly disappeared when they decided they didn’t want to dance anymore.  He thought of the bruises on the bodies of those Benny favoured above the rest, the dead look in their eyes, and the pained sounds from behind closed doors in the evenings.  But he needed the money. 

Kíli’s fingers clenched and the pen slid against his sweaty palm as he scribbled his name above the line at the bottom.  Barely a second after he finished the paper was wrenched away, and Benny was at his side, breathing heavily against his ear.

“Now go get dressed, and show some skin,” Benny jeered, pushing him roughly towards the changing rooms back stage.  Kíli didn’t like the pleased look in his eyes, but even more than that, he despised the growing pain inside his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably have read through this again...but eeeh...later :P

Kíli shrugged uncomfortably as he struggled to tie up the corset one of the girls had loaned him. It was likely meant for someone slightly smaller than him, and he couldn’t quite reach behind his body to tighten it properly. His ribcage already ached, and though he was not completely opposed to the fashion design, he certainly wasn’t used to it.

“Kíli what the hell are you doing?” Tauriel hissed at him as she poked her head through the tacky curtains that were meant to give him privacy. Kíli glanced towards her with wide eyes, feeling shamed at the other end of her disapproving stare.

“What’s it look like?” he snapped, turning back towards the mirror as he continued lacing up the corset.   He was growing red in the face in embarrassment, and his fingers fumbled as his arms began to tremble.

“Kíli…,” Tauriel trailed off, and she stepped inside, letting the curtain fall shut. Kíli noticed her move to stand beside him out of the corner of his eye, but he determinedly kept his gaze on his reflection.

“I know we aren’t real close, but…I also know you don’t want to do this. It’s written all over your face,” she commented, actually sounding a little bit worried for his well-being, and Kíli swallowed as his fingers paused in the process of lacing.

“I don’t got a whole lot of choice right now,” he muttered, letting his hands fall to his sides in exasperation. The corset sagged on his torso, and Kíli tugged it up into a better position and pouted before turning towards the redheaded girl still hovering at his side.

“Tauriel, honestly, I appreciate the concern, but I’ve already agreed. Signed the contract and everything,” Kíli explained. She was staring at him with a pitiful expression, and it made Kíli’s eyes well up, forcing him to look away as they threatened to overflow.

“Benny will fire me if I back down now and you know it,” he muttered. She stared him down with wide eyes, knowing that losing his job would be the least of his problems if Kíli cowered away from dancing.

“Besides, I really do need the cash. It’ll just be this once…,” he whispered shakily, trying to convince himself at the same time. They both knew Benny didn’t let go of dancers so easily. And now the man was completely aware of just how desperate Kíli’s situation was. He’d have the brunet wrapped around his finger. He’d see to it that Kíli couldn’t find work anywhere else in town, make sure no one helped him out. He’d stop scheduling Kíli for the floor, and his complaints would only fall upon deaf ears. He may not have understood everything in the contract, but he still knew what he’d signed. Once you danced for Benny, he owned you. Kíli flinched slightly as Tauriel’s hand settled on his arm, but he didn’t pull away, and after a moment Kíli lifted his eyes to connect with her worried gaze.

“Can you help me put this stupid thing on?” he asked, gesturing frantically at the corset that refused to stay up, and Tauriel smiled at him forlornly and went about lacing it up. Kíli squinted as the garment constrained his lungs, and their gazes met again in the mirror as she tied off the ribbons near the bottom. Kíli’s eyes were moist, and she must have noticed, as her hands rubbed the sides of his arms in support. It was a strange feeling, almost as though he’d made a friend for once in his life, but the moment was broken as a busty blond peeked through the curtain and startled them both.

“Sweetheart, you’re up next,” she warned, eyeing him up and down approvingly once before slinking away, and Kíli wiped his sweaty palms against the meagre amount of fabric covering his ass. The brunet eyed the high boots he was wearing, grateful that at least most of his shins were covered, but the rest of his legs were plain for anyone to see, and he shivered and scrunched his bare shoulders forwards.

“Here, wear this, I can tell you’re uncomfortable as all hell,” Tauriel murmured, tossing him a small jacket that he quickly slipped on.

“Thanks,” Kíli muttered, feeling slightly better. The fabric didn’t cover the long line of bared skin running down his back, but it was definitely an improvement.

“Good luck,” she voiced as he spared her a final fleeting look, making his way towards the back stage curtain. Kíli frowned as he noticed Benny watching through a side entrance and held back the bile that threatened to rise as he smacked a passing dancer’s ass. The brunet closed his eyes and took a steady breath as he fiddled with his locket. He wasn’t worthless, he wasn’t a piece of meat, he was better than all of this. Just once, just this once and it would be over. Just this once and he could go home, sleep beneath a roof for another month. But as he glanced one more time towards his boss, his heart sank in recognition of the lies. Benny waved some bills at him teasingly, his irises dark and foreboding, and Kíli knew things would never be the same again. His body wasn’t his own any longer, it was Benny’s.

“Sorry Mama,” Kíli whispered, glancing down at the dangling piece of jewellery sadly, and then he stepped up the stairs and waited for his cue. To say he wasn’t nervous would be a horrific lie. He was terrified. He’d seen hundreds of routines on the stage, but never ever imagined doing one himself, and as the music changed and Kíli stepped out from behind the curtain, he nearly walked right back again. It was a full house, and he heard several shouts and whistles directed at him even as he stood motionless at the back of the stage. The lights were blinding, and Kíli felt the need to squint and he raised his hand to block it out slightly. The music thumped loudly in his ears, a song he cared little for, that was meant only to inspire grinding motions of the body. He could see the expectant gazes of the patrons, their eyes gleaming as they waited for him to move, growing increasingly more impatient the longer he stood still. Someone shouted at him, hurtful words that he blocked from his mind, and the brunet looked above the men leaning over the stage and tried to just focus on the music.

He knew how to dance, it had always come naturally to him, but he hated the idea of doing it for money, of putting his body on display. Kíli jolted when a finger touched his leg, just above the edge of his boot, and he nearly kicked out at the offending limb. A man had climbed up on the stage, crawling next to him, and a bouncer pulled him away half-heartedly. The touch sickened the brunet, and he wanted to shout out at the man and push away every single person around him. His eyes caught sight of the bills just in time and he suddenly remembered the reasoning behind his actions.

Kíli pushed aside the snarky and offensive comments, and threw off his jacket, working the edge of the stage like his mother used to. He knew how to get tips, and if he was going to dance, he’d damn well make the best of it. His body was still stiff as he bent low towards the sleazebags reaching up towards him, but none of them seemed to care or notice, fawning over his body like a pack of rabid wolves. Kíli put on a fake smile as someone dragged sticky fingers through his hair, and he lifted his eyes towards the crowd, letting them roam over the men around him. There were faces he’d seen before, workers from the stores and factories in town. The old man three doors down in his apartment complex, the barber that worked in the core, and even construction workers that filled the potholes in the streets.   Kíli’s head flew from side to side, and he panicked as he recognized more and more faces, finally gasping in astonishment as his gaze met steely blue. Kíli jerked in surprise, his eyes blown wide as he stared at the man just beyond the stage.

Fíli was there, watching him with his signature intense gaze, and Kíli shivered slightly at the prospect. A large part of him was still very afraid of the sturdy man, but that glimmer of desire lurked just beneath the surface, and Kíli knew he could no longer deny his attraction. He heard a heavy intake of air; it was his own breathing loud inside his ears. The dream invaded his thoughts, and he recalled the feeling of Fíli’s lips over his own, of Fíli’s body encasing his own, of Fíli’s touch, lingering on his body. If Fíli meant to kill him, he would gladly allow it, if only for a fraction of that pleasure he imagined. He hardened in spite of his situation, knowing that the men below would become carnal at the sight of his arousal, would reach out to touch him thinking they were the cause of it. How mistaken they all were. There was only one man Kíli had ever felt such an unfathomable need for.

The blond walked leisurely around the stage, following Kíli’s every step as he moved around the ledge, showing off his slender legs. The other man’s blue eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, and before Kíli knew it he forgot his surroundings entirely, focused only on the one person that mattered. The brunet backed up into the pole sticking up from the centre of the stage, and he slid down it easily, not breaking eye contact with Fíli for a single moment. His legs spread apart, and he knew he must have looked disgraceful, draped across the stage in such a way, but all that mattered was the flash of arousal in the blond’s hazy eyes. Kíli grinned, suddenly hungry for something, and he moved like he was possessed by some kind of demon. Hands slid money into his waistband, and beneath his corset, but they meant nothing to him. There was only Fíli. And for once it felt like he had the control, like the blond was completely under his spell.

Kíli revelled in it.

He was enjoying it, grinding like some sex crazed animal, and Kíli pulled at the elastic holding his hair tight together, and the dark locks fell down over his shoulders as he twisted around the pole. He felt powerful for the first time in his life, and sighed as the sweat began dripping down his neck and thighs, flying from the ends of his hair. Kíli’s breaths became deep and erratic, and his eyes were wild as he controlled the atmosphere around him. The lights flashed, cascading the spectator’s in a wide array of colours, making Kíli feel slightly disoriented.  Fíli’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening, and he disappeared into the crowd, lost amongst the drunken men cheering around the stage.

Hands dragged up Kíli’s legs and wrapped around his waist, and suddenly the trancelike state evaporated, leaving the brunet feeling entirely too aware. Kíli gasped in surprise as he was pulled back to reality, completely disgusted by the amount of men grabbing at his body. He felt claustrophobic and scared, and Kíli whimpered and kicked out at the people reaching out towards him. A hand wrapped around his ankle, and Kíli screamed, shaking the offending limb away before inching back on the stage.  Thick gusts of cigarette smoke wafted up into his lungs and they tightened painfully in his chest. The aroma he had once taken comfort in now made him gag and gasp desperately for air. He glanced up one last time, searching unsuccessfully for familiar blue eyes, before quickly turning to leave. His set wasn’t quite finished, but he didn’t care, and Kíli bent to pick up the borrowed jacket before fleeing through the curtain and down the steps behind the stage.

He felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn. He was on the verge of breaking down, and he bent over a garbage pail and fought off the urge to throw up. He was hyperventilating, and he grasped at his neck desperately as he struggled to breathe. It took several minutes for his throat to stop burning and finally Kíli lowered his shaking hands to his waist and tugged the loose bills from his shorts. He felt dirty, and wanted nothing more than to have a long shower and scrub at his skin until it was raw and red. He wiped a drop of sweat from his brow and then stood with as much pride as he could manage and made his way to Benny’s office with purpose. The door was open, and the man acting guard dog leered at him suggestively as he walked inside. Benny wasn’t there, and Kíli flinched as his boss snuck up behind him and placed a hand on his ass.

“I knew you had it in you babe,” Benny whispered in his ear, and Kíli just barely felt the man’s fingers making contact with his skin beneath the hem of his shorts. The brunet pushed him away with force, and backed into the desk, knocking over a few items atop it.

“Don’t fucking touch me you snake,” Kíli sneered, his heart rate still elevated from dancing, and he winced as his hip throbbed from the impact against solid wood.

“Oooh, touchy touchy,” Benny muttered, walking around him with probing eyes. The man seemed in no rush to settle their business, and the brunet frowned as he noticed him adjusting his pants disgustingly.  

“Enough of the crap Benny, give me my pay,” Kíli snapped, throwing out a hand to the side as he waited impatiently. The man frowned at him and reached inside his jacked for his leather wallet.

“You are a real bitch, aren’t you,” Benny muttered, sliding a few bills out and handing them to the brunet. Kíli lunged forwards and swiped the money from his grasp, frowning as he counted out far less than he was expecting.

“What the hell is this?” Kíli pressed, holding up the bills in disdain. It was hardly even a night’s pay, and nowhere near enough to cover his rent for later that night.

“You’ll get the rest, when you dance again tomorrow night. Your performance tonight was pathetic at best. Left before your set finished, and didn’t even take any of this off,” Benny explained, leaning next to Kíli on the desk as he slid a finger down the front of his corset. The brunet inched away and crossed his arms defiantly.

“I ain’t dancin’ again,” Kíli stressed, his jaw tightly set.

“What was that?” Benny asked, leaning uncomfortably close and Kíli flew away from him and faced him head on.

“I said, I ain’t dancing no more Benny!” Kíli shouted as he slung the jacket in his grip around his shoulders. His boss stared him down, feigning disinterest, but the brunet could see the disappointment in his eyes. Kíli knew he was a meal ticket for Benny; the men in the club had been all over him, more than any of the other dancers on his payroll. The man wanted him, and Kíli smirked at him defiantly.  

“Well, I guess you can count yourself out of a job then, unless you’d rather spread your legs like a good little whore,” Benny sneered, stepping forwards and grabbing hold of the brunet’s jacket. Kíli shrugged him off and felt his face growing hot at the implication.

“Fuck you! I don’t need your money!” Kíli yelled, but Benny nodded to the guard to shut the door and grabbed him with force. Fear took hold of Kíli’s heart, and he struggled in the man’s grip and kneed him in the balls. At the impact Benny grunted loudly and bent forwards in pain, giving Kíli enough time to reach down into his boot. The brunet whipped out the tiny blade he still kept on his body and swiped out in front of himself blindly, making contact with the other man’s skin. There was a loud hiss and Benny backed away, reaching up towards his face in surprise. A streak of blood ran down his cheek and he glared at Kíli and reached into the back of his pants for his gun, immediately pointing it out in front of him.

“You’ll pay for that you little shit,” Benny growled and Kíli fell to the ground with a scream as several shots fired in his direction. He crawled across the floor as more rang out around him, and scrambled to hide beneath the desk and the limited cover it offered. The wood splintered as bullets pierced it, and Kíli covered his ears at the loud sounds, hoping someone might overhear. But the music in the club was always deafening, and it was likely concealed by the deep thumping bass within the bar.

The guard strode towards him at Benny’s command, and Kíli kicked out his legs, knocking the chair to the side, and then he watched as the large man stumbled and fell to the ground in surprise. The brunet might have laughed had a hand not whipped around the desk and pulled him out from underneath. Kíli gasped loudly then lashed out and managed to punch Benny once in the face. It knocked the sleazy man back briefly, but by the time Kíli was steady on his knees again the lumbering guard was back on his feet and managed to hit him over the head with a paperweight. It hurt like a bitch, and the crack against his skull left the brunet reeling in pain. Kíli collapsed to the ground, his face slamming into the wooden boards on the floor as he dropped his knife carelessly, and he whimpered in pain as someone grabbed his hair and threw him into the metal safe.

He knew he was bleeding, he could feel the warm liquid dripping down the side of his face and his head throbbed violently at the source of the wound. Stray strands of hair clung to his lips and he squirmed slightly feeling too woozy and disoriented to lift himself off the ground. After a moment the brunet felt a strange pressure at the back of his head, and realized suddenly that it was the barrel of the gun pressed against his skull. He groaned as a knee pushed into his back and held him down, and Kíli knew without a doubt that he was about to die. Benny was going to kill him and no one would ever find out, no one would ever care. His bloodstains would be gone within the hour, and his body left to rot somewhere in the countryside. Worse than that, the last memory anyone would have of him was watching him grind and gyrate on that disgusting stage.

“Did you think I was just gonna let you walk away from this place? When you signed that contract you signed your soul to the devil,” Benny murmured in his ear, his breaths coming in rapid inconsistent waves.

“So very naïve,” Benny huffed, and Kíli winced as a hand traced across his bared waist.

“Just like your ma,” He hissed and the gun trailed down the back of the brunet’s neck, catching on the collar of the jacket and dragging it down. Benny reached out and grabbed the chain around Kíli’s neck, pulling it back hard in his grip. The brunet gagged as he was choked, and his head jerked back as his nails scratched furiously against the floor boards. He reached up and rubbed at his throat desperately as the chain dug into his skin painfully, and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. Slivers of wood pierced his legs and he winced as one of his knees scraped against a loose nail.  

“Ah, I remember her pretty little face, got her eyes, you do. She was a greedy little bitch too,” Benny wheezed, and Kíli jerked beneath him. One of the brunet’s elbows flung backwards, catching the man in the ribs, and Kíli heaved as the grip on the necklace loosened and his head fell forwards onto the ground. He felt a blinding pain in the side of his face and cried out as his body was turned on its back.

“Knew you’d grow up to be just as much trouble, shoulda killed you a long time ago,” Benny admitted, his voice rattling as he struggled against Kíli’s erratic movements. The brunet’s eyes widened as he looked up at his boss in disgust, suddenly realizing the truth about his mother’s death.   For some reason Kíli always assumed it had been someone from out of town. Some stranger that decided she knew too much and needed to die. But it was Benny all along that had murdered her. The man he’d been working for, begging for money from. Anger brewed inside of Kíli, and the brunet howled and with his last morsel of energy, threw his body from the ground, wrapping his hands around Benny’s neck and knocking his gun away in the process. It skidded across the floor and Benny’s eyes widened in surprise, his body tensing as he reached out wildly to fight off the brunet.

“It was you! You killed her! You bastard!” Kíli screamed at him, spit flying from his mouth and hitting Benny in the face. The smaller man kneed Kíli in the chest, winding him, and the two grappled with each other on the floor. Kíli bit viciously at the fingers pushing his face down, and rejoiced at the pained noises his boss made when he managed to draw blood.

“Hold down his arms you idiot! And shut him up!” Benny screeched, and the bouncer hobbled over and shoved Kíli hard against the ground. His arms were pulled above his head, and then a sweaty hand covered his mouth. Kíli tried to bite it, but he didn’t have the leverage anymore, and he was forced to breathe in against the dirty palm, his voice muffled by the thick hand. Benny’s thighs were holding his legs in place and his breath caught in his chest when hands pulled aggressively at his shorts, popping the single button open at his waist.  

“Oh I’m gonna enjoy this,” Benny breathed, and Kíli struggled as much as he was able. He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t get away, and another blow to his head had him slumping limply beneath the unwanted touches. Kíli’s mind was foggy, but he still noticed when the door to Benny’s office slammed open and several figures moved inside. Suddenly the hands holding his arms down tensed, and when Kíli looked up, the hilt of a dagger protruded from the guard’s face. The man spluttered a few times and his fingers twitched in the fabric of Kíli’s jacket, and then he fell with a heavy crash to the side. Benny barely had enough time to take in the sight before a switchblade disappeared into the back of his neck, killing him instantly. Kíli held his breath as his vision cleared and he realized it was Fíli standing behind Benny, a murderous expression written upon his face.

The blond wrenched his knife from the man and tossed the corpse to the ground, turning searing eyes on Kíli’s form. The brunet shifted painfully on the ground and struggled to sit up, watching as Nori approached and sneered over the dead guard.

“Heh, hit my mark dead on,” Nori chuckled, and Kíli squirmed uncomfortably as he twisted the blade around before pulling it out and wiping it off. Blood squirted from the mutilated eye socket left behind, and Kíli was forced to look away, feeling sick to his stomach. Fíli searched Benny’s body, throwing items from his pockets to the floorboards, and then he tossed the dead man’s keys towards his redheaded companion.

“Nori, you know what to do,” the blond murmured, and a wide grin split across Nori’s face before he moved to the safe in the corner of the room eagerly. Kíli watched him curiously, his breath heavy as his heart rate began to slow to a steadier pace. After a few minutes of fiddling with the lock and using a combination of different keys, it fell open, and Nori opened the safe and searched the interior thoroughly. To Kíli’s surprise, the man ignored the mounds of cash, instead pulling a bland wooden box out and setting it on the ground.

“Check it,” Fíli ordered quickly, glancing towards where Dwalin stood guarding the door. Kíli felt the tension in the room thicken as Nori leaned forwards and began working at the combination lock on the box. The redhead stuck his tongue out and narrowed his eyes, and the room was near silent, except for the subtle droning bass that resonated through the walls.

“Amateur work,” Nori murmured under his breath, his hand steady as he turned the lock slowly, pausing occasionally to look at the numbers. After a few seconds a barely discernable click sounded and Nori grinned wildly and lifted the lid on the box. Kíli’s eyes widened as he saw the contents glimmering brilliantly under the limited artificial lighting. Hundreds of white gemstones sparkled and reflected patterns across Nori’s face and the surrounding walls, and the brunet gaped at the impressive sight. It was like something out of a movie.

“Jackpot,” Nori breathed, and Fíli nodded at him faintly. Everything that came after was hurried and precise. Nori put the box in a black bag and started packing away the stacks of money inside the safe. Bofur flung out some plastic on the ground and another man that Kíli was unfamiliar with helped him lift the dead bodies and roll them up inside. The new addition had large scar wounds running across the top of his scalp and didn’t say a single word. He looked used to the process, as though packing away corpses was no more than a hobby.

The gang members moved around the room meticulously, cleaning up what mess they could, confiscating weapons and rearranging items on the desk to set a scene. Kíli eyed it all in disbelief, suddenly aware that whatever was going on was so much bigger than him. He was just an unwanted addition, a complication, the sole witness to a terrible crime, and he doubted they would let him live. Two men were dead, lying wrapped up on the floor, and Kíli cringed at the smeared blood visible through the plastic. It distorted their faces, made them look foreign and unnatural. Kíli figured he’d have nightmares featuring the disgusting scene for days to come, though he felt no remorse at the thought of their deaths. He pulled his legs together and winced at the aches and pains running throughout his form and as Fíli approached, his feet coming to rest just beside the brunet, Kíli shivered and wondered if he was about to face a similar fate as his boss.

To his surprise, Fíli simply reached down a hand in a gesture to help him off the ground. Kíli accepted the assistance warily, and groaned as he was propped against the desk and studied thoroughly. Fíli’s fingers were pushing back the jacket’s collar to peer at developing bruises, and when their eyes met Kíli swallowed nervously and frowned.

“I was fine you know, didn’t need your help,” Kíli muttered defiantly, but the blond merely raised an eyebrow in disagreement. They both knew that was bullshit. One second later and Kíli would have been fucked into the ground by the disgusting creep he called his boss, five minutes later and he would have been dead. Fíli’s thick hands settled on the wood at his sides, and Kíli glanced towards them, noting the blood stains lingering on his skin.

“You…you killed them,” Kíli whispered, unsure if he meant it to be accusatory or not. The blond’s grip tightened atop the desk and Kíli’s breathing quickened when the man pushed away from him.

“Trash like that doesn’t deserve to live,” Fíli droned, his eyes lowering to the brunet’s open fly. Kíli flushed, and reached down to button up his shorts, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he remembered the disgusting touches on his skin. He felt exposed, dressed in so little, standing amongst the members of the gang, worse even than he had felt on stage.

“And…that man, the other day,” Kíli commented, licking his lips slightly as he noticed Nori’s flashing gaze from the side. But he wanted to know for sure, needed to know the truth.

“He tried to run,” Fíli explained, his voice steady and emotionless, and Kíli eyed him through still glazed eyes. His throat was parched and he was beginning to feel the day’s stresses finally taking their toll.

“So you killed him too?” Kíli muttered, already knowing the answer, and he blinked slowly as he wondered just how many others had died at the hands of the blond and his crew.  

“Does that bother you?” Fíli asked, and the brunet thought he almost looked concerned for a moment. Perhaps the blond was sizing him up, trying to determine if Kíli was a squealer or not. It was the only explanation for the strange emotion in his deep blue eyes.  

“No,” Kíli admitted. He honestly didn’t really care. If it had been an innocent, a child, or perhaps some poor passer-by he might have cared a bit more. And though Kíli was uncomfortable with the idea of murder, for some reason, he wasn’t that bothered by the notion. The brunet had always known Fíli was dangerous, always assumed he was capable of such things. But at least he had a code. Fíli considered him for a moment, and then he gestured to the door with his chin and turned around.

“I’ll take you home,” the blond voiced, and Kíli hesitated for only a second before he followed behind him, casually sneaking a few stray bills off of the desk on his way. Nori snickered at him as the brunet tucked the bills into his pocket with the rest of his pay, and Kíli shrugged carelessly. He needed the money, and Benny certainly had no use for it anymore. By all rights it was his to begin with, never mind if a few extra dollars found their way into the stack.

“Dwalin, take care of the rest,” Fíli commanded, and he shut the door carefully behind them, leading Kíli into the strangely empty hallway running along the back side of Dusk. A few more gang members stood at key locations, watching the two pass by carefully, but there was no sign of anyone else. Kíli wondered where the other bouncers were, and the stray dancers that sometimes lingered in the back in the hopes of nailing a few extra bucks off their boss for a night spent in his bed. Paid off perhaps? Money was a powerful object, especially in a piss poor town like Astermoor. Kíli sidelong glanced towards the blond, wondering if he even needed to pay people at all to convince them that staying away was in their best interest.

They walked briskly, and Kíli kept his eyes lowered just in case someone strolled by and managed to catch sight of his beaten up face, but as the two approached the employee exit a figure reached out and gripped his arm. Kíli flinched in surprise, his eyes widening as he turned around, but he calmed immediately when he took in Tauriel’s worried gaze. She looked stricken at the sight of him, and glanced between the two men frantically.

“Kíli, you’re bleeding!” Tauriel hissed, and the brunet pushed her away slightly, noting the way Fíli’s fingers hovered over the blade in his pocket.

“I’m fine, calm down,” Kíli whispered, hushing her quickly. He glanced down the hallway, but didn’t see anyone watching. The music changed and he knew it was Starla’s set. She’d keep everyone busy for a hefty amount of time.

“Look, some serious shit is going down, you need to stay out of it. If anyone asks, say I went home sick, alright? Just go back out there and pretend nothing’s different than usual,” Kíli hurried to explain, and she nodded with him after giving his body another glance over.

“Yeah, yeah alright,” Tauriel stuttered. She was smart enough to understand everything was bigger than her as well and that the safest route was feigning ignorance. Kíli pulled off the jacket she loaned him and shoved it into her arms, and the redhead inched away, heading back towards the bar. The brunet turned around and pushed his way outside with Fíli, shivering as the night air washed over his form. It wasn’t that cold out, but he was more than a little underdressed. The two men walked a few blocks down the street, and Fíli directed him beneath a small overpass towards the lined up motorcycles just beyond. Kíli watched the blond get on his bike apprehensively. He was beginning to wonder if he should just set home on his own, ignore the man’s impatient gaze and just turn away. It was impossibly stupid to drive off with someone that had shoved a knife into another man only minutes prior. Wasn’t it?

But then Fíli held out his hand again, and Kíli was walking towards it, grabbing it, and stepping over the seat of the bike without a second thought. A helmet was shoved into his hands, and Kíli stared at it in surprise, noting that Fíli wore little more than his scarf to protect his face.

“What about you?” Kíli asked as the engine sounded in his ears. And Fíli glanced back at him with a serious frown.

“Put it on,” the blond ordered, and Kíli slid the helmet over his head, latching it into place. He didn’t know how to sit, where to put his arms, but at the first tiny jerk of the bike his hands flew forward and gripped the sides of Fíli’s jacket. The motor droned, Fíli lifted his feet, and then they were gone.

The blond drove recklessly, like a wild animal, and the wind stung against Kíli’s bared legs and arms. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug his nails into Fíli’s chest, terrified that he might get thrown off if he let go for a single moment. Fíli’s hair blew out behind him, slapping against the visor on the helmet, and Kíli felt the muscles moving in his abs each time they rounded a corner. The brunet’s heart was racing, his breathing erratic, but as he turned his head to the side and watched the scenery fly by it gave him the biggest rush he’d ever felt. He grinned with wide eyes, and started laughing as the bike sped across the road below. At the sudden sound Fíli clenched his hands, and the bike jerked forwards, speeding up even more. Kíli ducked his head but smiled, and his entire body tingled in excitement. He didn’t feel the pain anymore, his cuts and bruises forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the fresh air in his lungs, and the incredible exhilaration of travelling at such a speed. It took a moment for Kíli to realize they weren’t heading anywhere near his apartment complex. In fact, the blond had never asked him where he lived to begin with, and Kíli watched the countryside changing on the horizon as the houses tapered off into farmland and the lights of the town disappeared behind them.

They drove for a several more minutes, until Fíli slowed down and veered off the road, driving out into a grassy plain. The ground was bumpy and Kíli grew nervous, wondering if he’d been mistaken. Perhaps Fíli meant to kill him after all, and what better place than out in the middle of nowhere. The field seemed endless, and though Kíli could faintly make out the silhouette of a silo and barn in the distance, it was so far away that no one would ever spot them, even if the brunet screamed at the top of his lungs.

Fíli slowed to a stop, settled amongst a patch of grassy undergrowth and Kíli sat back and removed the helmet, looking up at the starry night sky with wide eyes. He was flushed and out of breath, and his nerve endings were on fire. Fíli took the helmet from him and propped it on one of the handlebars before twisting on the seat and leaning against the motorcycle. His feet dug into the dirty ground, and Kíli slid to the side and leaned beside him, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“This ain’t my home,” he spoke softly, hoping the other man might explain what was going on. He was relaxed, but on edge at the same time, not sure if he should run away into the field or sit and wait for whatever was yet to come. His eyes lingered on a billboard further down the road, lazily reading the advertisement for some fast food chain that looked like it was over a decade old. Fíli stared at him for a moment, and tugged his scarf down to hang loosely in front of his neck. His gaze seemed softer beneath the light of the stars, and he lifted a hand and settled it gently at the side of Kíli’s face. The brunet inhaled quickly at the touch, but didn’t flinch away, and he scrunched his brow together when a finger traced along the dark line visible upon his neck. In the morning there would be a nasty set of bruises, spreading across his skin to remind him of how he’d nearly choked to death. Kíli should have been afraid, should have moved as far away from the other man as possible, but he stayed put and let the callused hand roam. Fíli’s fingers eventually settled beneath Kíli’s ear, and then he closed the distance between them and kissed the brunet tenderly. It caught Kíli off guard, and he remained motionless as rough lips moved against his own. It was so different from the other kiss the two men shared, so much gentler, and Kíli blinked several times a his lips shook beneath the soft touches against them.

He had a moment to breathe, and Fíli’s gaze connected with his, waiting for some kind of reaction. A hand dragged down his back, fiddling with the ribbons that held his corset on, and Kíli trembled at the hint of warmth against his spine. Dextrous fingers began tugging on the ties, sliding the lacing free, and Kíli gasped and closed his eyes, arching his back erotically.

He could understand it, how so many gave in to the temptation of a night with a mysterious man. Fíli was strong, masculine, and dangerous, and Kíli wanted him and everything he was offering, longed for something so forbidden. His fingers tightened against the leather seat behind him, his nails digging into the surface, and he shuddered as he wondered what it might be like to just let go, forget about his shitty life for once and succumb to a night of pleasure. There would be no going back once he made that choice, but what did he have to lose? He’d already given up what little integrity he still had when he got up on that stage, and for once, he just wanted those touches on his body to be at his own discretion instead of another’s.

When Kíli opened his eyes he surged to the side, connecting their mouths in a rougher kiss much more akin to their first. Fíli groaned deeply into his mouth and pushed back, and then his arms tightened around the brunet’s form and pulled him away from the motorcycle. They fell to the ground, Kíli flat on his back against the grass and soil. The corset hung around his torso loosely and Fíli’s hands roamed beneath it, the rough texture of his palms catching on Kíli’s skin. Gooseflesh rose along the brunet’s back and shoulders and he turned his head to the side as the other man began sucking fervently at his neck, dragging his tongue across the darkening marks. It was so much better than he ever imagined, feeling another person on his skin. He’d only ever seen quick rendezvous in alleyways and arrangements between hookers and their clients, disgusting encounters that existed only because of the ever present need for money. The touches that sometimes lingered in the bar made him squirm away uncomfortably as he tried to force the feeling from his mind. Never had he thought sex might actually be enjoyable, that having a solid body pressing against his would feel so mind-blowingly _good_. Fíli was surprisingly thorough in his exploration of the expanse of skin arranged before him and tremors ran through the brunet’s legs and arms at the teasing touches.

“Oh god,” Kíli gasped, as fingers trailed across his exposed nipples, pushing his covering further down his chest. The hands lowered, gripping briefly at his rear, and then Fíli pulled away and tugged the brunet’s heavy boots from his feet. Kíli stretched out his toes as they were exposed to the cooling air, and then he dug them into the dirt and looked up towards the other man expectantly, breathing rapidly. Fíli was staring at him, but not at his body like he expected. The blond’s eyes were firmly fixed on his face, and Kíli latched onto the blue irises as the other man hovered over him. There was an emotion there impossible to name, something fierce and fiery that made the blond seem otherworldly. It couldn’t possibly be love, and Kíli threw the idea away before it had a glimpse of a chance to settle in his soul. It might have been desire, but even that did not make much sense to him in that moment.

Kíli knew he must look a mess. Bruises and scrapes everywhere, a bloodied face, mussed hair, clothing in disarray, dirt smeared across his arms and the side of his head, but Fíli’s eyes were alight with passion and lust regardless, and his fingers ran up the back of Kíli’s legs and inched beneath the small shorts that barely covered his ass. Kíli wiggled against the teasing touches, strangely wishing that the other man’s fingers might delve even higher.

The two kissed like that for a while, Fíli hunched low over his body, the brunet’s legs wrapped around his solid waist, as they writhed against each other. Fíli groped him teasingly; his fingers touching places that made Kíli redden in surprise and finally the brunet allowed his hands to splay atop that glorious lion draped along the blond’s neck. He traced the teeth and eyes, dragged his fingers along the decorative mane, and at the first opportunity leaned forwards and sucked a mark into the detailed line work. The blond groaned low in his throat and pushed Kíli down hard, staring into his lust blown irises. After a moment he ran his tongue across Kíli’s lips, and then those roguish fingers were on the brunet’s face, as Fíli’s thumb dragged enticingly over the edge of his mouth. Something compelled the Kíli to suck it between his lips, and then the world around them froze. Fíli’s eyes were wide and blazing as he watched the brunet’s saliva coat his skin, and he pushed away with force, reaching into the saddlebag hanging from his bike while Kíli lay impatiently on the grass. The blond grappled around, clearly searching for something, and he hurried back to the ground once he found it.

Kíli was surprised when a wet and cool digit pressed up inside him. He jerked atop the ground and clenched involuntarily at the intrusion. Fíli hadn’t even taken off his shorts, instead stretching the fabric to one side as he played with Kíli’s ass. The brunet threw an arm over his face, his cheeks burning as he was fingered thoroughly. He was embarrassed, ashamed, never had he imagined someone touching him in such an intimate place. Never had he imagined enjoying it so much. He could have said no, could have fought the other man off, but he didn’t. He wanted it, wanted Fíli to touch him, drive him mad, and make him _feel_.

The brunet lost most of his awareness after that, sinking into a hazy dreamlike state. His hips lifted off the ground as Fíli pulled their bodies flush together, and Kíli tugged several blades of grass from the soil as his hands dragged across the earth. He gasped and threw his head back, groaning as the wound at his temple pulsed along with every beat of his over excited heart. He felt skin and leather rubbing against him, and the warmth of another body pressing down on top of him. There was pressure inside of him that made Kíli tense his legs and squirm atop the grass. He cried out, dragged his nails down Fíli’s back, and quivered as his mind was overthrown. Hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging. Fíli was grunting and thrusting, biting at his shoulders, and his thick thighs pushed the brunet’s legs back in jerky movements. Muscles flexed and fingers tightened, the lion looked as though it was roaring with all its might. Fíli’s stubble scratched against Kíli’s neck, leaving red rash marks along his skin, and the brunet moaned and gritted his teeth as a hand ventured between their bodies, slipped beneath his waistband, and took hold of his arousal in a vicelike grip.  

There was a stick or something scratching and digging into his back, and Kíli’s shoulders and the side of his face were completely caked in mud. He was sweaty, dirty, the corset chafed uncomfortably against his skin. He felt disgusting but did not care at all. His bruises and cuts were screaming at him, everything hurt, and at the same time he felt so elated that he thought he might explode from the intensity of the feeling. His head pounded with each movement, the sound of his blood pumping loud in his mind. He closed his eyes as they began to blur and burn, struggling to stay focused and aware. It was all too much; he could no longer process pain or pleasure. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and instead he made a high pitched whimpering sound somewhere between the two. He screamed as something came over him, an intense, overpowering sensation unlike any other, and then his vision blackened, and Kíli felt exhaustion finally take hold.

* * *

He woke to the sound of cicadas humming and frogs croaking in the distance. It was still dark, the stars vivid up above, and Kíli breathed in through his nose as he scrunched up his face and wiped the sleep from his eyes. His legs were chilled, the fine hairs standing on end, but his upper body was pleasantly warm, and he realized Fíli had draped his leather jacket across him while he slept. Kíli flushed deeply as he remembered the events from earlier in the evening, the reason he was sleeping atop a field of grass, covered in dirt and tiny bugs with sticky fluids caked between his legs. His body itched, and he twisted slightly and stretched out his sore muscles, whining slightly at the pain.

Fíli was sitting still beside the brunet, looking up towards the sky pensively, and when Kíli turned towards him the blond met his gaze. Fíli didn’t say a single word, his face hidden in shadow, and Kíli began to trace the embroidery on the jacket with his fingers nervously. There were several unrecognizable characters across the top that drew his attention, and as the silence began to eat at him, the brunet spoke.

“What’s it say?” Kíli asked, his fingers dragging across the unusual words. He didn’t really expect an answer. After all, Fíli had no reason to divulge something that was clearly personal to him and his gang. But the man’s signature timbre rang out amongst them, drawing Kíli’s attention.

“Kings of Carven Stone,” Fíli answered, and he looked back upwards, towards the stars, while Kíli ogled him openly. His hair hung in a tangled mess over his shoulders, and the white shirt he wore was stained in several places, likely from rolling around in the mud. He had a regal profile, a strong jaw, with an angular neck. His shoulders were broad and toned, and his finely trimmed beard and stubble exuded masculinity. Kíli appreciated the view and wondered at the notion that he now knew what it felt like to be embraced by such a man. That thought brought a deep flush to his face, and the brunet tugged the jacket up to cover his reddening neck.

“That your gang name?” Kíli pressed, suddenly wishing the blond would look towards him again, pay him attention again. He wanted to hear Fíli’s voice, to feel his touch. He wanted to mean something to him, something more than just a body to lose oneself in.

“Somethin’ like that,” Fíli muttered. He rocked back on his hands and lowered his gaze, focusing on something near his feet. His jaw tensed and Kíli could see the muscles moving beneath the skin of his face. The brunet nibbled at his lip, and pulled his knees up, shivering at the new exposure to the cool air.

“Are you the leader?” Kíli pried, recalling the way the other members of the gang appeared to look towards him for confirmation fairly often. Fíli was always silently communicating with the other men around him, seemingly commanding them to act without actually telling them to do so. But surprisingly the blond snorted loudly, and Kíli’s eyes widened at the shocking sound. It seemed too light-hearted for someone like Fíli, but suited him none the less.

“No,” he muttered, his lips lifting slightly as he rolled his eyes at the suggestion. Something about that action made Kíli smile as well.

“My uncle is,” Fíli explained and the brunet frowned slightly, running his fingers over the oak leaf carefully embroidered on the jacket.

“…Oakenshield?” he whispered, not really intending to voice it at all, but Fíli settled a serious stare on him, and Kíli flinched and closed his mouth. The brunet didn’t dare say anything more, aware that their conversation was over and that the blond did not feel like speaking any further on the inner workings of his gang. Kíli was still an outsider to him, someone he likely couldn’t trust. It was strange how the tables had turned.

Kíli sat up and rearranged the jacket over his shoulders, reaching back to tighten the corset so that it wasn’t gaping inelegantly off his torso. He turned his head to the side and subtly smelled the interior of the collar. It was faintly musky; Fíli’s rich scent lingering within the material, and the brunet closed his eyes as he settled into the warmth, tucking his legs in close to his body. Kíli could still feel the blond’s eyes lingering on him, watching him carefully, and he ducked his head and dragged his hands across the soil beside him. His fingers caught on the stones and plants sticking up from the ground, and Kíli paused as he noticed a fully seeded dandelion swaying slightly back and forth.

It was too tempting for him to leave it, and he plucked the white puff from the ground and twirled the stem around between his fingers with a melancholy smile. It had been a long time since he last indulged in such a childish thing, not since the death of his mother. Kíli stared at the weed for a moment before clutching it tightly and blowing at it with half closed eyes. The seeds flew apart, several of them soaring off over the field. A few stray ones floated back towards his face, tickling at his nose, and Kíli wrinkled his face and laughed lightly at the strange feeling.

He was so enraptured that he didn’t even notice Fíli inching closer, and the touch of a hand to the back of the brunet’s neck had him shivering and turning in surprise. Fíli gripped him tightly and pulled him close, their noses brushing as their mouths connected. Warmth brewed inside Kíli’s chest, spreading throughout his body like wildfire, and he moved his lips along with the other man’s in a gentle, languid caress. Fíli pressed their brows together, looking at the brunet in a sombre manner, and then he pulled away suddenly, standing to walk back towards his bike, and Kíli figured that was his cue to follow. He stood shakily, his face flushed as he tried not to think about any possible deeper meaning behind the brief but satisfying kiss.   It took him several minutes to lace up his boots, and he realized it was a miracle that the other man had managed to remove them so quickly in the heat of the moment. As the brunet straddled the motorcycle and pushed the helmet down over his head, Fíli turned his head slightly, just enough that Kíli could make out the edge of his chin.

“Where do you live?” the blond asked dryly, and Kíli gave him directions and held on tight as the engine roared to life. The ride was cold, and any warmth the brunet felt from the kiss had long since evaporated. He squeezed his legs tightly alongside the seat, pressing his knees into Fíli’s hips. The cuts and scrapes across his skin throbbed painfully as they rubbed against the blond’s jeans, reminding him of the entire night’s events.

The sight of his apartment complex was both welcome and unwanted. Kíli wasn’t quite ready to return to reality. He didn’t want to face the dirty dank hallway leading to his lacklustre room. He didn’t want to remember the sordid display he’d put on at the club that night. He wanted to pretend that everything was fine, that he wasn’t out of a job, that he wasn’t somewhat involved in the murder of two men, that he hadn’t spread his legs for a man he hardly knew at all. Kíli shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, sucking his upper lip into his mouth as he tried to keep the brewing tears from running down his face. His fingers tightened in Fíli’s shirt, and he imagined himself back in the field, happy for once, and encased in the arms of someone who actually loved him, that cared whether or not he woke up each day. But it was just a dream, a painful, horrible deception. Fíli didn’t give a shit, no one gave a shit, and as the motorcycle came to a halt just in front of the seedy entrance to his building, Kíli was forced to face his fears.

He dismounted on rickety legs and held out the helmet regretfully. Part of him hoped the other man might at least say goodnight but characteristically, no words were spoken. Fíli eyed him up and down as he had so many times before, and Kíli did not have the heart to meet his eyes, instead dropping his gaze to the complex metalwork on the bike. His heart felt like it was sinking and he glanced up as the blond shifted and drove off suddenly, leaving Kíli standing wearily outside. His chest ached as he watched Fíli’s back disappear down the eerily lit street. He knew he’d made a mistake. Everything had felt wonderful in the moment. Fíli’s touch had been like fire coursing through his veins, the look in his eyes completely captivating. But it was a ruse.

Kíli keeled to the side, catching his balance on a chain garbage bin, the metal scratching against the cement as he stumbled beside it. It was like he’d fallen into an ice cold vat of water. His body ached more than ever, every wound throbbing painfully on his skin. His legs seized, his eyes burned, but worse than that was the strange pain inside. He felt so…empty. He had let go of the only thing he still had control of in his life, and he’d never get it back.

The brunet squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of emotions, feeling the blood pumping through his veins. He could hear his mother’s chiding words, warning him against strangers, of falling into their trap, accusing him of giving in so easily. He felt like throwing up, and just barely managed to keep from doing so, pushing aggressively away from the garbage bin and knocking it to the ground in the process. The metal clanged loudly as it rattled and rolled away from him, and Kíli stared down the street anxiously as though he expected someone to reprimand him for causing a ruckus at such an hour. Not a soul was visible, and everything was so strangely still. In just a couple of hours the sun would rise again, and the streets would fill with workers and obnoxious teens that chose to skip out on classes.  

Kíli’s eyes drifted towards the pavement and he winced as he took in his rumpled clothing and bruised legs. He couldn’t help but think his mother would be disappointed in him. His vision blurred and his nostrils flared, and the locket about his neck felt cold against his skin. Kíli didn’t remember how he managed to get inside his building or down the hallway, but as his landlord bellowed at him and threw him into the wall he was brought back to reality quickly.

The hulk of a man flew from his office and barrelled into Kíli’s side, the force behind his weight throwing the brunet against the ugly patterned paper opposite. The neon lighting flickered down the hallway and Kíli wheezed as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

“You little shit, where’s the rent?” Tony seethed, his breath rank against Kíli’s face, and the man gripped the leather jacket tightly and lifted the brunet slightly against the wall. Loose bits of paper crumpled and fell to the stained carpet, and Kíli grit his teeth and wrestled in his grip. He was so tired of getting thrown around and controlled by others. The brunet managed to shake away from the tight hold, and he sneered and spat at the landlord irritably as his body stumbled to the side.

“Piss off Tony; I got your money,” Kíli muttered, turning his face away in an attempt to keep his shaky mental state a secret. He already knew how awful the rest of his body looked, the last thing Kíli wanted was for his landlord to see just how shattered he felt inside as well. Tony inched back slightly but eyed the brunet suspiciously, his gaze lingering on the strange markings across the arms of the leather jacket that Kíli had forgotten he still wore. Tony seemed confused for a moment, but eventually his eyes widened in recognition and the burly man fell back slightly in surprise.

It seemed the gang in town had become fairly notorious in their short time visiting Astermoor. Kíli might have laughed, if he hadn’t felt so utterly broken. He managed to find the loose bills previously shoved in his pockets and slapped several of them against the other man’s chest. Hopefully that would keep Tony quiet for a while. Kíli sidled past the stunned man, and made his way to the stairwell, leaning heavily on the railing as he walked up the floors towards his room. The neighbours were quiet, and not even the dog across the hall barked as he swore and fiddled with his lock.

Once inside, the door secured behind him, Kíli did little more than stand in the middle of the entranceway, his gaze rooted on the fraying mat beneath his feet. His eyes still felt puffy, and despite his intense desire to not fall apart, liquid seeped into his vision, and several tiny drops fell towards the ground. His nose began to run, and he wiped it off on his wrist as his legs started to shake. Kíli’s chest heaved several times, and he held in the sobs, instead sniffling as he wiped at his face in frustration. He finally managed to take a step, and stumbled through the short hallway, supporting himself against the wall. When he fell atop his bed the brunet curled up into a ball and pressed his face into the blankets as he cried. His arms wrapped around his body and he dug his nails into the thick leather of Fíli’s jacket. His nose nudged against the warm interior, and Kíli let the heady scents calm him until his eyes fell shut, feeling exhausted and worn beyond compare.

* * *

When Kíli peeked out his window the next day it was clearly already well into the afternoon. He groaned and blinked his eyes rapidly as they adjusted to the bright light. The sun was high in the sky, and the shadows were short enough to indicate that Kíli had slept in fairly late. He didn’t feel much like moving, and there was an enduring pain throughout his entire body that was far worse than the day prior. Kíli’s face felt swollen, and he was afraid to look in the mirror.

He finally conceded and switched on his bathroom light, glancing at his reflection timidly. It looked just as bad as it felt. His face was a mass of purple hues, and fairly swollen on one side. He pushed a wet cloth against it and held it there, staring at the cracked countertop listlessly. He finally had a moment to really think about everything that had happened. He’d been so distracted by his night spent in the field that Benny’s death seemed almost inconsequential by comparison. How strange was it that he felt no remorse at the blatant murder of two men, not feet from his body.

Kíli’s throat tightened as he realised just how serious his situation was. He’d witnessed a crime, was the only person to witness it. Had perhaps even…caused it. Nori’s threats seemed nothing now. What was he to do? What was the right choice? Did he go to the police? Report the crime? Risk the wrath of the gang along with his own guilt. Or did he…let it slide. Kíli’s eyes darkened as he remembered Benny’s words. The man had killed his mother…raped her even. He would have done the same to Kíli as well if given the chance.

_Good riddance_.

A grin took over Kíli’s face as he recalled the way Fíli had looked, standing over Benny’s dead body. The blond was powerful, in control, so very similar to how he looked above Kíli, as he writhed against the ground in pleasure.  The intensity of Kíli’s desire had him reeling slightly, and he let his hands brace the counter for support. No matter what, murderer or not, the brunet definitely wanted to see him again, even if it was just to look at him from a distance.

Kíli walked into his bedroom and eyed the leather jacket slung over his desk chair worriedly, before making up his mind. There was no point in hiding away forever. He had to check in on Tauriel, had to see what the hell was going on now that Benny was…dead. Had to make sure he hadn’t been framed for murder…and he had to return the jacket. Kíli nibbled at his lip as he thought about meeting Fíli again. He wasn’t sure what he expected. He knew what he hoped for, but had learned long ago that fairy tales existed only in dreams.    

Kíli put on the first items of clothing he could reach after giving them a cautionary sniff, and despite his best efforts not to, finally conceded and looked at his reflection again. He grimaced, covered up what he could, then snagged the jacket and tucked it beneath his arm. He didn’t feel like driving just a few blocks away, so he walked, ignoring the whispers and glances sent in his direction. He hoped it was just the usual stuff, insults and mindless rumours, but something felt off. Perhaps it was the bundle rolled up beneath his arm that had others looking at him in such a curious manner. Perhaps they were men from the club, recalling the way he danced. Or perhaps it was something more. Maybe he was in trouble after all. His nightmares suddenly seemed all too real and his chest constricted as he briefly imagined the ground crumbling around his feet, eating him up and entangling him in the roots of weeds.

Kíli sniffled and kept his head lowered, walking quickly towards his undecided destination. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was headed. He could go to the motel maybe, see if Fíli’s hog was parked outside in the lot. Or perhaps he’d take a detour and stop by his mother’s grave first. Kíli winced guiltily as he realised it had been several days since his last visit with her. Somehow it didn’t feel right, setting foot in front of her tombstone after everything he’d done. Stealing, begging, dancing in the club…and now even...

Kíli shook his head and licked his lips, closing his eyes momentarily before speeding up to a much quicker pace. It was shameful, what he’d been reduced to.

Kíli rounded a corner, staggering for a moment as he took in a group of cop cars clustered together at the crossroads near the core. The lights were flashing, and the officers stood around pointing as they scribbled away on clipboards. One of them looked up and glanced vaguely in his direction, and it was enough to make the brunet’s throat close up in fear. He inched back, gasping for air, his fingers digging into the leather jacket in his arms. Kíli struggled to steady his breathing as he took cover behind the brick wall, and then he turned and started off in the opposite direction decisively. He’d head to the motel.

Kíli’s feet scraped against the pavement as he hurried along the sidewalk, feeling more paranoid than ever. He slipped through alleyways, trying to avoid the wandering eyes of other townsfolk, and eventually found his way to the main street. His heart thudded painfully as he noticed the lot out front of the Sunscape Motel. It was empty, except for a single pickup truck. The brunet frowned, feeling suddenly let down. He let his shoulders slump, and fell against the nearest wall, wondering if they were gone for good. Perhaps the gang had left town hours ago, perhaps Kíli would never see the blond biker again. He remembered what it felt like in those few moments he let go and flushed as he recalled exactly what it was like to be taken, willingly controlled by another man.   His fingers tightened in the leather, and he found himself dragging his nails along the embroidery, tracing the runes and longing for Fíli’s touch again.

It was the sound of an engine revving that brought him back, and Kíli stepped away from the building and looked down the street with wide, hopeful eyes. He felt his mouth fall open as he caught sight of the motorcycles in a different lot altogether. They were grouped up at the gas station, the men taking turns filling their tanks as they loitered just outside. He took in the group warily, taking note of the distinctive blond hair and broad shoulders that made his hands become clammy with sweat. Kíli swallowed nervously, losing his courage in seconds. He contemplated running again, forgetting about the jacket entirely and just leaving it abandoned on the road. Maybe Fíli would find it on his way out of town.

Suddenly Bofur turned, sitting up straight and waving heartily in his direction, and Kíli’s moment for a quick escape disappeared. The brunet tensed up as the other men turned to look at him, and Kíli sighed and started walking in their direction resolutely. Fíli barely acknowledge his approach, only glancing towards the side for a few seconds. His hair slid over the back of his neck tantalizingly and his shoulder muscles flexed with the subtle movement. He seemed so composed. It was difficult to believe the worked up, almost desperate actions the previous night were at the hands of the same man. But then….maybe it had all been an act. A very convincing act.

“You’re leaving?” Kíli asked quietly as he stepped between the lined up bikes, already sure of the answer. It was clear by the way the gang members had gathered all in one place, not to mention the tightly packed bundles hooked across the backs of their motorcycles.

“It’s time,” Dwalin voiced, nodding off towards the horizon. “On to the next town, new fish to fry,” the large man intoned as a heavy bearded fellow clasped hands with him and then struggled to lift his leg over the seat of his own bike. It was a wide model, with a big storage compartment on the back and a high metal seat. Kíli glanced around at the rest of the gang members, studying the different motorcycles curiously. It seemed the hogs were all refuelled, and the gang was just waiting for the signal to leave.

“Besides, our work here is done, and we have a delivery to make,” Kíli followed the large man’s gaze, eyeing the redhead that had his feet propped up on the handlebars of his bike. Nori grinned at him, showing off the piece of liquorice that hung out of his mouth, as he patted the parcel hooked on the side of his bike. Kíli could imagine the contents, thousands of sparkling gemstones worth more than everything the brunet owned. He couldn’t help but feel a small spark of jealousy, but he knew the gang hardly lived in luxury. Their pants were torn, much like Kíli’s own ragged jeans, and their faces were aged and worn from long days and nights spent driving on dirt roads.  

“It must suck, moving all the time, never having a home,” Kíli mentioned, trying not to let his eyes stray towards the blond just to his left. He could feel Fíli’s gaze lingering on him, and knew that if he met it his carefully crafted mask would crumble.

“It’s what we do kid,” Bofur chimed in, and Kíli regarded him with curious eyes.

“The road is our home,” Fíli’s raspy voice surprised him, and Kíli stared at him with open eyes, taking in the crisp blue irises in wonder. It was strange. So few days had passed since the gang first arrived, and despite his limited contact with most of the members, no more than a few carefully exchanged words in the club every so often, Kíli felt oddly attached. He found himself smiling wryly as he wondered what it might be like to travel from town to town, sleeping in a different bed every night. It would be difficult not always having a roof over his head, but at least they had each other. The camaraderie between the members of the gang was clearly strong. They understood each other like no one else, were there for one another, ready to jump to the defense of each other, even if that meant killing another person. It was like family, really. A strange, dysfunctional, but tight-knit family. It was more than Kíli had known in a long while.

“Fíli, we’ll be at the next corner,” Dwalin voiced, revving his engine after fastening his helmet. Ori skittered over from inside the station quickly, several packages of candy tucked into his pockets, and he practically jumped onto the back of the bike. He slid his hands beneath Dwalin’s jacket and let his head rest against the bald man’s back, clearly ready for the long ride ahead.

“It was a pleasure seeing you dance kid,” Bofur spoke with a wide grin and knowing eyes, and Kíli couldn’t help but smile slightly in return, even if it was a bit strained. The man had known all along that he’d end up on that stage. How desperate he must have looked, even then.

The motorcycles left the lot one by one, the engines roaring loudly as they sped up on the road, and as the others drove off Kíli turned his gaze towards Fíli, studying him briefly before lowering his gaze to the ground. It took him a moment, but he stepped closer to the blond man and handed him the crumpled up jacket, trying to ignore Fíli’s persistent gaze. The other man was staring at him thoroughly, clearly eyeing the markings across his jawline and cheekbone. Kíli suddenly wished he had put more effort into covering them up.

“Thank you,” Kíli muttered under his breath, trying to quell his quickening heartbeat.

“I know I’m the reason you have to leave, because of…,” Kíli began, but the other man intervened quickly.

“You’re not,” he droned, and the implication was there. Benny would have died regardless of whether or not Kíli had been present. The gang wasn’t there to save him at all, they just happened to show up at the right time to do so. It saddened Kíli, that he was just an irrelevant addition to the events of that night. His lips twitched and he grimaced slightly, but otherwise remained composed.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kíli promised, for some reason feeling obligated to announce his loyalty. Fíli shuffled his feet and flexed his arm muscles as he let out a barely discernable huff.

“You don’t need to worry about me. It’s not the first time I’ve killed a man, won’t be the last,” Fíli drawled, and then his eyes drifted away and he looked in the direction his gang had gone in. He licked his lips and Kíli watched his blond eyelashes lower slightly. The statement should have troubled Kíli, but he found himself wondering just how many people the blond had killed, and why, again not entirely bothered by the fact he was in the presence of a murderer.

“We were never going to stay here forever,” Fíli mentioned, and he tightened his hold on the handlebars and shifted in his seat. He seemed restless, like he was itching to take off down the road and get out of town as soon as possible. Kíli couldn’t blame him. It was likely the cops were already beginning to suspect the gang of some kind of foul activity. Even if they couldn’t prove anything, the extra attention would be enough to urge the group elsewhere. And once out of town, they’d be completely out of reach of Astermoor’s policing. Kíli swallowed and wrapped his arms around his torso. It seemed so final.

“You should go, they’re waiting for you,” Kíli remarked, suddenly longing for his bed and blankets. He wanted to curl up, hide away, and start forgetting.  There was a long silence during which Kíli dug his toes into the gravel and Fíli did little more than watch. The clouds shifted above, casting them into shadow every now and then. A car drove past on the highway and the sound was deafening for a moment, but quickly faded away.

“Want a ride?” the words were sudden, and Kíli raised his head in disbelief, finally looking the other man directly in the eyes. Fíli was studying him intently, and his posture was different than normal, tenser. Kíli opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to comprehend the question and he shifted on his feet slightly as he found his voice.

“Where to?” Kíli muttered, glancing quickly down the road. The other members of the gang were out of sight, likely waiting at a pit stop a few miles away. The brunet wondered what they might think if Fíli left them to wait for another hour or two. Surely they would grow impatient and leave the blond behind.    

“Don’t know, wherever the road takes us,” Fíli commented, and Kíli was again struck with surprise. He gaped at the blond, suddenly realizing exactly what he was suggesting. Fíli didn’t mean to take him off into a field again, didn’t mean to drive him around town for a bit before dropping him back off at home. The man wanted him to go with him, to the next town, on the road, wherever the gang meant to go. Kíli’s chest tightened and he felt a tingle run down his shoulders and spine. His heart rate accelerated and he stared into Fíli’s deep blue irises searchingly.  

“I…,” Kíli trailed off, imagining what life might be like for him if he just said yes. He could almost feel it. The wind on his face, the fresh air in his lungs, that incredible taste of freedom. He wanted it, badly, but Kíli’s brief fantasy quickly became clouded by darkness. The country roads would only lead him to other towns just like Astermoor, other places Fíli and his gang meant to pass through and do who knows what within. After all, Fíli was a criminal, wasn’t he?

There were just too many unknowns. He might get hurt, or left behind. Fíli might tire of him and abandon him on the side of the road. His eyes strayed towards the blond’s hands, where they tightened and squeezed the handle grips impatiently. Those hands had blood on them. One day, it might be his. A shudder ran down Kíli’s spine and he lowered his gaze in resignation. He’d already made one mistake too many.

“I can’t,” Kíli whispered, his voice deceptively steady. The brunet fiddled with his locket and flinched when the blond stopped fidgeting atop his motorcycle.

“Sorry,” Kíli muttered, and the two men shared a brief gaze. The brunet wasn’t sure what he hoped to see in Fíli’s blue irises. Perhaps a small part of him wanted the other man to show some sign of disappointment. But the blond’s eyes were empty of any sign of emotion, one way or the other.

No more words were spoken between the two, and Fíli had his helmet on and the engine roaring all too soon. Kíli’s breath caught in his throat as the other man drove off suddenly, soaring down the road without a single glance behind. He stared at the dust clouds flying up from the ground, his throat constricting uncomfortably.

Regret settled in immediately, and his heart felt impossibly hollow. He was tempted to yell out after the man, beg for him to turn around and come back, but it was too late. Fíli was far too gone to ever hear his pleading screams. He stumbled out into the road, looking towards the blond’s fading silhouette in despair. Not moments later he was sobbing in the street, tears running in droves down his cheeks as he gazed unseeingly towards the horizon in the distance.

A blaring horn frightened him from his position and he skittered back towards the sidewalk, making his way slowly to the nearest alleyway to once again hide from the townsfolk. Kíli slumped limply against a dumpster, sliding down the heated metal as he crouched into his body. There was nothing for him in his life, no future, no happiness, no love. He couldn’t even bring himself to visit his mother’s grave, preferring the company of trash. Kíli’s thumbs lifted the locket slightly and pressed it between his knees.

“You’re happy, right?” he whispered softly.

“You wouldn’t have wanted me to go, right mama?” Kíli asked, leaning back to look up at the sliver of sky visible between the buildings. She didn’t answer, but the brunet still knew what she would have said. No matter how low he had sunk, no matter how strange he’d become, he knew above all else she would have just wanted him to be happy. Kíli’s lower lip trembled as he watched the clouds change shape against the blue sky.

”Shit, Kíli, you damn idiot,” he hissed, throwing his head roughly against the brick.

* * *

Kíli kicked at a pebble aggressively and watched with dead eyes as it skittered across the pavement and bounced up against the curb.   His feet dragged along the ground and he glared at his worn shoes distastefully, noting the way the edges frayed around his toes. It had been a long walk back from the next town over, but he’d not had much choice. Just a few days prior his truck had finally kicked the bucket once and for all. It wouldn’t start, and at the price the mechanic quoted to fix it, Kíli could have bought a new car altogether…if he had the cash that is.

His face was tacky from sweat, his shirt drenched down his back, and the pain in his spine and feet hardly seemed worth the tiny pay cheque he was getting at his new job. Benny’s bar was closed down until further notice, his sudden disappearance still a mystery, and no one nearby was looking for help, not his sort of help anyway. He’d been lucky to get a position at a diner the next town over, but was beginning to wonder how much longer he could keep it up. It was exhausting making the trip by foot every day.

He felt weary, far beyond his years. Creases were forming at the edges of his eyes and in his brow just from the stresses he struggled with each day. At night he couldn’t fall asleep, caught up by feelings of regret and the memory of steel blue eyes, and in the mornings he didn’t want to get out of bed, too unwilling to face the realities of the world around him. Work was draining, life was draining. As always, when he felt stress eating at his soul, Kíli reached up and grasped his locket. It slipped between his sweaty fingers, and the chain felt uncomfortable where it chafed against his neck. The brunet sighed heavily, tightening his hold about the pendant as he lugged his feet across the ground. He felt his eyelids drooping, and his hand slipped slightly, then a sudden snap sounded and the chain flew off his neck towards the ground. Kíli watched the locket fall in slow motion, bouncing against the pavement and rolling into the gutter. His eyes widened as it skittered across a sewer grate and toppled between a separation in the metal. The brunet gasped loudly and dropped his bag, falling to his knees at the side of the road, the exhaustion creeping up on him temporarily forgotten. The gravel scraped against his knees but he ignored it, splaying his hands out over the metal grate as he peered down at the locket balancing just out of reach below.

“Damn it!” Kíli hissed, and he tried desperately to squeeze his hand into the tiny space. His wrist didn’t quite fit, and his fingers grazed the chain but weren’t long enough to take hold. Kíli felt his chest constrict at the thought of losing the one thing he still held dear. He shook the metal frantically not caring what a mess he probably looked like to any who happened to look his way. He cursed his luck. Hadn’t he lost enough already? Kíli’s hair clung to his shoulders and chin, and he wiped it away from his eyes and looked desperately at his unattainable necklace. Not even the sound of vehicles speeding past him dangerously close by made the brunet move from his spot at the side of the road. Kíli groaned and tried to steady his shaking hands, reaching one last time inside the drain. It seemed an impossible feat, and short of removing the entire grate there was no way he could get to the locket without pushing it further by accident.

Kíli sagged and stared into the sewer angrily, and he only took notice of a figure approaching when a long shadow blocked out the sunlight, casting the depths of the grate into darkness. Kíli turned with irritated eyes, ready to lash out at whoever chose to park in that particular spot, but his voice caught in his throat as he peered up at a very familiar figure atop a very familiar bike.

Fíli looked down at him, taking a moment to pull the helmet from his head, and Kíli found himself staring up into the very eyes that had haunted his dreams for weeks. His lip trembled and his nostrils flared as he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. He thought for a moment he might be dreaming, but the air was still uncomfortably dry, and the ground painful beneath his bruised and bleeding knees. He knew he was awake, and felt like crying from a mixture of disbelief and happiness. Kíli’s fingers slid slowly from inside the grate, the chain of his necklace falling further from his touch. He turned on his knees, letting his hands hold his body upright atop the road.

“You…you came back!” Kíli gasped, his voice hoarse from his long walk and a full day of waiting tables.  The blond studied him thoroughly, glancing at his abandoned bag and the obvious signs of fatigue across his face. Kíli almost expected him to leave in disgust, but instead his lips twitched and upturned slightly, his eyes glimmering in a surprisingly playful manner.

“I left something of mine behind,” Fíli rasped, and the two stared at one another for a moment, until the blond held out his helmet in Kíli’s direction.

“Get on,” he ordered, his eyes boring into Kíli’s soul. The brunet was lost for words, his heart beating faster than ever before. He looked at the other man’s outstretched hand, at the helmet meant for him to wear. Part of him didn’t like being ordered to do anything, being referred to as a possession, and he wanted to fight the urge to just give in and accept his chance to escape. But he met those eyes again, stared into them searchingly. There was something so compelling about Fíli, something that made Kíli want to follow him, do as he was bid, regardless of his inner beliefs. The blond’s eyes were imploring and sincere, so much more emotive than the brunet had thought possible.   He knew in his heart he trusted Fíli on some level, and for some reason believed that there was something more behind his actions than just desire.

Kíli furrowed his eyebrows and let his gaze veer to the side, looking towards the gutter, and he thought for a moment about the locket that still lay trapped beneath the grate. He knew he would be leaving everything he’d ever known behind, his mother’s warnings forgotten. But her memory would always remain in his heart, with or without the visual reminders at his side. She would have wanted him to be happy…she would have wanted him to thrive.

Kíli lifted his bag and threw it over his shoulder as he stood, refusing to let this second chance slip through his fingers so easily. He’d made his choice and refused to look back again. His past was just that, in the past, and it was time to move on, to do something adventurous for once. He reached out to take the helmet held out towards him and then grasped the other man’s still open hand. The brunet straddled the bike, tightening his legs around the other man’s hips eagerly, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he remembered what it felt like to ride the wind. The helmet blocked out some of his vision, but he still saw Fíli turn to look at him and blinked in surprise when the man pulled him close and kissed the visor. Kíli’s cheeks reddened at the silly action and he grinned stupidly as Fíli accelerated and took off. They soared by the rundown buildings on the outskirts of Astermoor, the occasional pedestrian glancing curiously in their direction as they made their way out of town. Kíli felt the rush of air against his legs and arms and held on tight, looking over the blond’s shoulder and down the long road ahead. Excitement settled in his belly, and he let his fingers tighten in the folds of Fíli’s shirt. His eyes widened as he took in the landscape, watching as the tall crops morphed into rolling hills covered in an array of bold colours.  

Kíli let his head fall forwards, resting against the blond’s back, and he squeezed his hands desperately against Fíli’s solid chest. His hair whipped about his face in the cooling night air, and as the sun settled low in the sky the land around turned a brilliant yellow for as far as he could see. They were surrounded by a sea of dandelions, swaying with the breeze on either side of the road, dancing along with Kíli’s heart. The yellow petals stood out against the other greens, and overtook the fields easily, painting a beautiful picture upon the land. When Kíli felt the gentle touch atop his skin as Fíli aligned their fingers, the brunet breathed in shakily and looked out over the fields, watching the horizon move by slowly in the distance. He didn’t know what lay ahead or what dangers he may face, but his worries seemed so irrelevant compared to the new and unfamiliar feeling coursing through his veins.

He was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! Yay! Hope everyone enjoyed it. And yes, it's part of a series, as some people have noticed. I have plans for oneshots and other things in the same universe...so this may not be the last you see of these characters. Kili's adventure has really only just begun. :) Also, wanted to mention that I've been really excited at the prospect of maybe going to Hobbitcon4 next year! Wooooh! Gotta save forever!!!!


End file.
